“You will not move money from our accounts. You will repay every dollar spent on this trip. You will collect your belongings tonight and leave.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I will give your company the receipts, photographs, calendar screenshots, and messages.”
“You’re blackmailing me.”
“No.”
I kept my voice calm.
“I am telling you not to steal another dollar from me. What your employer does about the money you already took is their decision.”
He looked at Tessa.
“Are you part of this?”
She slid the silver ring across the table.
It stopped in front of him.
“I don’t want anything from you.”
Grant stared at it.
Then he looked at me.
“Eleven years, Rachel.”
His voice broke.
“You’re throwing away eleven years over five days?”
I shook my head.
“You threw them away one lie at a time.”
Grant left without finishing his drink.
That evening, he collected his bags while I stood near the front door.
He blamed stress.
Loneliness.
Alcohol.
Tessa.
He even accused me of neglecting him.
I did not argue.
Once he left, I changed the locks.
My attorney sent the separation agreement two days later.
Grant signed it after his company contacted him about inconsistencies in his expense reports.
I had not reported him.
Someone in accounting had noticed that several “client meals” had been charged at a resort hundreds of miles from the distributor he claimed to be visiting.
Once auditors started asking questions, the rest unraveled quickly.
He lost his job.
The company demanded repayment.
