Chapter 6: The Conversation He Came Back For
He stood in the kitchen doorway still in his coat.
He had been gone less than an hour.
"I turned around at the end of the street," he said.
"I don't want to leave it like this."
I set my phone face-down on the table.
"Okay," I said.
He came in and sat down across from me.
He looked tired in a way that was different from last night.
Last night he had been controlled.
Now something in him was looser, less certain.
"I owe you an explanation," he said.
"Yes.
You do."
"The account in March—" He stopped.
Started again.
"It's not what you're thinking."
"Tell me what it is."
"Dana and I — we identified a property opportunity together.
A small commercial space.
We each put in an equal share.
It was a genuine investment, Sophie.
I wasn't trying to hide it from you permanently.
I just didn't want to have the argument before I knew it was going to pay off."
"You didn't want to have the argument," I repeated.
"You would have said it was irresponsible."
"You spent six months moving money out of our joint account into a private account shared with a woman whose name I didn't know until last night.
And your explanation is that you didn't want me to say it was irresponsible."
He looked at the table.
"When you say it like that—"
"Is it a property investment, Brad?
Just that?"
He met my eyes.
"Yes."
"Then you won't mind showing me the paperwork."
A pause.
Short, but there.
"I don't have it here."
"Can you get it?"
"Sophie, I'm not going to sit here and be interrogated in my own kitchen—"
"Our kitchen," I said.
"In our house.
That I have maintained for nineteen years."
He stood up.
The chair scraped back and he walked to the window and stood there with his arms crossed, looking out at the back garden.
"I made a mistake," he said, "not telling you.
I can see that now.
But I need you to understand that there is nothing going on between me and Dana.
She is a colleague.
The account is a business arrangement.
That is the whole truth."
"Then why did someone text me last night telling me to check it?"
He turned around.
"What?"
"After you went to bed.
Someone texted me from an unknown number.
They told me to check the March statements."
His face did something complicated.
"Who?"
"I don't know.
They didn't reply again."
He came back to the table.
He sat down.
He leaned forward with his elbows on the surface and rubbed his face with both hands.
"Sophie.
I need you to trust me."
"I have trusted you for nineteen years."
"Then trust me now."
"Show me the paperwork for the property."
He dropped his hands.
He looked at me for a long moment.
"I'll get it," he said.
"Tonight.
I'll bring it home tonight and we'll go through it together."
"Okay," I said.
He nodded.
He stood up again.
He picked up his keys from the counter.
At the door he stopped.
"The food truck," he said, without turning around.
"I know I wasn't supportive.
I know I should have been.
I'm sorry for that."
He left.
I sat at the table and waited until I heard his car pull away.
Then I picked up my phone and texted the attorney Carol had sent me.
*My name is Sophie.
Carol referred me.
I need an appointment as soon as possible.*
Her office replied in eleven minutes.
*We have a cancellation tomorrow at 10 a.m.
Shall I book you in?*
I typed back: *Yes.
Please.*
I put the phone in my pocket and went to the family computer.
I opened Brad's email.
He had never changed the password.
In nineteen years, he had never changed it because I had always been the one who managed the household accounts, the subscriptions, the school forms, the insurance renewals.
He had given me the password years ago and simply never thought about it again.
I searched Dana's name.
The first result was from eight months ago.
May you like
I read the first line and my hand went still on the mouse.
It was not about property.
