Chapter 6: The Woman He Kept on the Side
We met at a coffee shop three blocks from Patricia's office — neutral ground, public, bright.
Renata Voss was already there when I arrived.
She was sitting with both hands wrapped around a mug she wasn't drinking from, and she looked up when I walked in with the expression of someone who has been rehearsing an apology and is no longer sure it's adequate.
I sat down across from her.
"I didn't know he was engaged," she said immediately.
"I want you to know that first.
I found out this morning when Marcus called me.
I felt sick."
"I believe you," I said.
She blinked.
She'd been braced for something else.
"He told me he was divorced," she said.
"Two years ago, he said.
A short marriage that ended badly.
He said she'd been unstable." She stopped.
"I'm guessing that was Sandra."
"Probably."
"He told me he was ready to settle down.
That he'd finally found someone who understood him." Her jaw tightened.
"He said it in this very particular way — like he was confiding something vulnerable.
Like you were being trusted with something rare." She looked down at her mug.
"I've been going over every conversation in my head since this morning trying to find the moment where I should have seen it."
"You won't find it," I said.
"That's the point.
He's practiced."
"How long were you together before the wedding?"
"Eight months."
Something crossed her face.
"He and I have been talking for three months.
Which means—"
"He was with both of us at the same time.
Yes."
She was quiet for a moment.
Then: "Did he ever tell you that you were the first person who really understood him?"
"On our fourth date."
"Third, for me." She exhaled slowly.
"What are you going to do?"
"My lawyer is filing for annulment on fraud grounds.
The prior marriage he didn't disclose is enough on its own, but there's more.
He targeted me financially.
He's done it before."
"Sandra."
"You know about her?"
"Marcus told me everything this morning.
He's — he's been sick about it.
He says Derek fed him a story about you two having problems, used him to keep tabs on your schedule." She looked up.
"He wants to talk to you.
He asked me to ask you if you'd be willing."
I thought about Marcus standing at the altar yesterday, giving his toast.
His voice cracking slightly on the word *lucky.* I'd thought it was emotion.
"Not yet," I said.
"Maybe later."
Renata nodded.
She understood the distinction between not yet and never.
"Is there anything I can do?" she said.
"To help.
With your lawyer, with whatever you're building against him.
I have three months of messages on my phone.
I have two voicemails.
I have a dinner receipt from the week before your wedding where he told me he was going to be out of town at a conference."
She set her phone on the table between us.
"He was with you that week," she said.
"Wasn't he."
"Final wedding preparations," I said.
"Yes."
She pushed the phone toward me.
"Take whatever Patricia needs."
I looked at the phone.
Then I looked at her.
"You don't have to do this," I said.
"It will mean being involved.
Possibly being contacted by his lawyer.
It could get uncomfortable."
"I know." She didn't move the phone back.
"He made me feel chosen.
He made me feel like I was finally with someone who saw me clearly." Her voice was even but her knuckles were white around the mug.
"I want him to answer for that.
Not just for you.
For Sandra.
For whoever else there is that we don't know about yet."
I picked up the phone.
I was halfway through forwarding the first message to Patricia when my own phone lit up on the table.
Derek.
Not a call this time.
A text: *I know you met with a lawyer this morning.
I know about the annulment filing.
You need to stop what you're doing, Chloe.
You don't know what you're getting into.
Call me.*
I showed it to Renata.
She read it.
Her expression didn't waver.
May you like
"He's scared," she said.
"Good," I said, and kept forwarding.
