Chapter 7: The Afternoon Andrew Came Back
Carol met me at the door of her office herself.
She took the phone from my hand, looked through the photos without a word, and then set it face-down on her desk.
"Eleven charges," she said.
"That I found.
I may have missed some."
"We'll get a full accounting." She folded her hands on the desk.
"Rachel, this is significant.
This isn't one hotel room in a moment of weakness.
This is a pattern of expenditure over at least ten months.
That changes the conversation considerably."
"What does it mean practically?"
"It means that when we talk about division of assets, the money he spent — your shared money — on this relationship becomes part of the picture.
It doesn't guarantee anything.
But it matters."
I nodded.
"Do you want to proceed?"
"I want to understand my options first."
She walked me through them.
Quietly, clearly, without drama.
She had a yellow legal pad and she wrote things down as she spoke.
I watched her handwriting and tried to absorb the words.
By the time I left her office it was past four.
My phone had three texts from Andrew.
All variations of the same thing.
*Can we talk tonight.
Please.*
I did not reply.
Nicole called as I was getting in the car.
"How are you doing?"
"I've been better.
How was school?"
"I couldn't concentrate at all." A pause.
"Is he still at Grandma's?"
"As far as I know."
"Good." Then, carefully: "Mom, did you call someone?
Like a lawyer?"
"I talked to Carol."
"Good," she said again.
The relief in her voice was audible.
"That's good."
I drove home.
I made dinner for one.
I ate it at the kitchen table with the television on in the other room, not watching it, just needing the sound.
At seven-fifteen, a car pulled into the driveway.
I knew the sound of the engine.
I did not get up.
Andrew knocked.
Then he used his key.
He came into the kitchen and stopped when he saw my face.
"I asked you to stay at your mother's."
"I know.
I needed to see you."
"That wasn't your decision to make."
He pulled out a chair across from me and sat down without being invited.
"I went to see Diane today."
I put my fork down.
"I needed her to take that comment down.
And to understand that it's over.
Completely."
"You went to see her."
"To end it properly.
Face to face."
"Andrew." I looked at him steadily.
"You went to see the woman you had an affair with, on the day I asked you to give me space, without telling me."
"I was trying to fix—"
"You were not fixing anything for me.
You were managing your own situation."
He opened his mouth.
"Did she take the comment down?"
"Yes."
"And what did she say?"
He hesitated.
"Andrew.
What did she say?"
"She said—" He stopped.
Looked at the table.
"She said she was sorry.
That she hadn't meant to cause problems."
"She commented on a family photo to tell me my husband was with her at our resort.
That was not an accident."
"I know."
"She wanted me to find out."
He said nothing.
"Why?"
He was quiet for a long moment.
"She thought—" He stopped again.
"She thought I was going to leave you."
The kitchen was very still.
"She thought you were leaving me," I said.
"I never told her that."
"But she thought it."
"Yes."
I picked my fork back up.
Set it back down.
"So she waited.
And when I posted that photo — a happy family photo — she realized you weren't leaving.
And she made sure I knew."
Andrew's hands were flat on the table.
"Rachel, I never gave her any reason to believe—"
"Eight months, Andrew." My voice was quiet.
"Eight months of hotel rooms and secret trips and lying to my face.
What reason did you give her to believe otherwise?"
He had no answer.
"I want you to go back to your mother's tonight."
"Rachel—"
"And I want you to know that I spoke to Carol today.
And I know about the eleven charges."
The color left his face.
"I haven't decided anything yet," I said.
"But I want you to understand that I am not going to be managed through this.
I am not going to be told what was and wasn't what it looked like.
I am going to find out exactly what happened, and then I am going to decide what I want to do."
He stood up slowly.
At the kitchen door he stopped.
"I didn't want to lose you," he said.
"That's the truth.
Whatever else I did — I never wanted to lose you."
I looked at him.
"Then you should have thought about that ten months ago."
He left.
I sat at the table until his car was gone.
Then I picked up my phone and saw a text from a number I didn't recognize.
*I think we should talk.
May you like
There are things about Andrew you still don't know.
— Diane*
