Chapter 2 - THE FIRST LIE HE COULDN’T EXPLAIN
Daniel tried anger first.
Predictable.
“I cannot believe you went through my transactions.”
“Our transactions.”
“You’re spying on me.”
“I downloaded statements from accounts with my name on them.”
“That’s not the point.”
“No?”
I folded my hands.
“Then explain the point.”
He stood.
Paced.
“I helped someone.”
“With jewelry?”
“It was Christmas.”
“In November?”
“She was having a terrible year.”
“So you bought another woman jewelry.”
“A necklace.”
“How thoughtful.”
“Emily.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
Immediate.
Too immediate.
I had known Daniel eleven years.
He scratched the side of his thumb when lying about small things.
Traffic.
Forgotten errands.
Whether he ate the last cookie.
That night, he practically rubbed the skin raw.
“Did you kiss her?”
Silence.
There it was.
My chest tightened.
“Daniel.”
“It happened once.”
I laughed.
I didn’t mean to.
“What?”
“It always happens once.”
He glared.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
I stood.
“I’m tired.”
“You’re walking away?”
“Yes.”
“We need to fix this.”
I turned.
“You haven’t even told me what this is.”
His anger disappeared slightly.
“Emily.”
“How long?”
No answer.
“How long have you been lying to me?”
He looked away.
“October.”
Margaret’s suspicion.
Of course.
“Why?”
“Our marriage has been struggling.”
I stared.
“Has it?”
“You know it has.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I know you’ve been distant.”
“You work constantly.”
“So do you.”
“You’re never emotionally available.”
“Daniel, last month I planned your birthday dinner.”
“That isn’t emotional availability.”
I almost admired the rewriting.
“When did you tell me you were unhappy?”
“You should have known.”
There are sentences that end conversations.
That was one.
I walked upstairs.
Daniel followed.
“Don’t contact Vanessa.”
I stopped.
“Why?”
“She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into our problems.”
“Our problems?”
“Yes.”
“Your girlfriend is not part of the problem?”
“She is not my girlfriend.”
I turned.
“You bought her jewelry.”
“Emily.”
“You held her hand in public.”
“She was having a difficult day.”
“You rented a hotel room.”
He said nothing.
I smiled without humor.
“But she isn’t part of this.”
“She didn’t make our marriage unhappy.”
“You keep saying our marriage was unhappy.”
“It was.”
“Then tell me the last time you tried to fix it.”
Silence.
I went into the bedroom.
Locked the door.
The next morning Rachel called.
“I reviewed the documents you sent.”
“And?”
“Nothing catastrophic yet.”
Interesting use of yet.
“But I want you to look at your home-equity records.”
“Why?”
“Your mortgage servicer shows a credit inquiry last month.”
“I didn’t apply for anything.”
“That is why.”
My stomach tightened.
I logged in.
There it was.
Application initiated.
Home-equity line.
Potential amount:
$185,000.
Status:
Incomplete.
Applicant:
Daniel Bennett.
Co-applicant:
Emily Bennett.
I stared.
“I didn’t apply.”
Rachel became quiet.
“Do not click anything.”
“Why?”
“Because I want copies exactly as they exist.”
“How could he list me?”
“Maybe he intended to get your signature later.”
“Maybe?”
“Emily.”
Her tone changed.
“Check your email.”
I searched.
Nothing.
Then spam.
An automated mortgage message.
Thank you for completing preliminary authorization.
My stomach dropped.
I opened the attached form.
Digital initials:
EB.
My initials.
On a document I had never seen.
I called Margaret.
She arrived within thirty minutes.
I showed her.
Her face went white.
“He used your name.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
She pointed.
“Daniel has always done that E wrong.”
“What?”
“Your signature.”
I stared at her.
“You know my signature?”
“You signed enough school fundraiser checks over the years.”
She enlarged it.
The E leaned left.
Mine leaned right.
A tiny detail.
But she was correct.
Margaret whispered:
“That isn’t yours.”
May you like
The affair had just stopped being the biggest problem.
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