“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
I nodded.
“I thought we could have dinner tomorrow. Somewhere nice.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated.
“I may need to work late.”
“Then Friday?”
“Friday is better.”
I kissed his cheek.
“Good.”
The next afternoon, Grant left his office early and drove to the restaurant.
I waited in a parked car across the street while listening through Tessa’s phone.
Grant arrived twelve minutes late.
“What do you want?” he asked before sitting down.
“I want you to tell Rachel.”
“I can’t.”
“Then I will.”
“You don’t understand her.”
“I spoke to her.”
A chair scraped sharply.
“You what?”
“I told her there was someone else.”
“What exactly did you say?”
“Enough.”
Grant’s voice turned cold.
“You need to fix this.”
“How?”
“Tell her you made it up.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I can make things very difficult for you.”
The threat erased the last trace of doubt I had.
Tessa had feared he might charm her again.
I had feared hearing his voice might remind me of the man I loved.
Instead, he had shown both of us exactly who he was.
I left the car and entered the restaurant.
Grant saw me before I reached the table.
His face went gray.
“Rachel?”
“Sit down.”
He looked around.
“I said sit down.”
Several diners turned toward us.
Grant lowered himself into the chair.
His gaze moved from me to Tessa.
“You two planned this?”
“You’ve been messaging me all week,” I said.
His eyes snapped toward my prepaid phone.
“The messages were from you?”
“Yes.”
Grant rubbed both hands over his face.
“This is insane.”
“Then explain it.”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I placed the resort receipt on the table.
Then the photographs.
Then printed copies of his messages to Tessa.
“Start with the business conference.”
“It wasn’t what you think.”
“You took another woman on a romantic vacation.”
“I made a mistake.”
“No. You made reservations.”
I pointed to the receipt.
“You booked plane tickets. You packed a suitcase. You invented meetings. You used our money. You told Tessa I was your sister.”
“I was going to pay the money back.”
“With what?”
“My bonus.”
Tessa leaned forward.
“The thirty thousand dollars you supposedly saved for our apartment?”
Grant glared at her.
“Why would you show her private messages?”
“Private?” she asked. “You were planning two separate futures.”
Grant reached toward my hand.
I pulled it away.
“Rachel, I love you.”
“You told her the same thing.”
“I never meant it with her.”
“That does not help you.”
His face changed as he searched for a version of himself that might still work.
The exhausted businessman.
The confused husband.
The lonely victim.
“What do you want?” he finally asked.
“I want you out of the house tonight.”
His expression hardened.
“Our house.”
“The house my parents helped us buy and whose mortgage I have paid for six years.”
“You can’t throw me out.”
“I already packed your clothes.”
He stared at me.
“You went through my belongings?”
“You went through our marriage.”
Grant looked at the evidence.
“You want to humiliate me.”
“If I wanted to humiliate you, I would have invited your employer and asked about the conference.”
Fear flashed across his face.
It was quick.
But I saw it.
“There was no conference, was there?”
He looked away.
Tessa spoke.
“He told his company he was visiting a client.”
Grant turned toward her.
“How do you know that?”
“You sent me a screenshot of your work calendar.”
I sat back.
“Did you submit any resort expenses to the company?”
“It was only a few meals.”
“That sounds like fraud.”
“Rachel, don’t.”
In that moment, I understood how to use his deception to my advantage.
Not to punish him.
To protect myself.
“You will sign the separation agreement my attorney sends.”
Grant stared at me.
