Chapter 7: The Business She Built With His Money
I went back downstairs with that name sitting in my chest like a stone.
Kendra was still at the kitchen table.
She had made herself a fresh cup of coffee.
The bank statements were still on the table, but she had straightened them into a neat pile, which told me she had been sitting there reading them while I was upstairs.
I pulled out my chair and sat down.
"Allman Properties," I said.
She looked up from her coffee.
"Derek Allman is listed as the owner," I said.
"But I'm guessing the startup capital didn't come entirely from Derek."
She set her mug down.
"You talked to Haley."
"She saw the paperwork you left on the counter."
Kendra's jaw tightened.
"That was private."
"A lot of things in this house have been private, Kendra.
That seems to be the theme."
"I didn't use your money for the business."
"Then where did the twenty-three thousand go?"
"Not all of it went to the business."
"How much of it did?"
She was quiet.
"How much?" I said again.
"Fifteen thousand." She said it quickly, like speed would soften it.
"It was a loan.
Derek was going to pay it back once the company had its first two properties under management."
"A loan." I repeated the word carefully.
"You took fifteen thousand dollars from our joint account and gave it to your boyfriend as a business loan."
"He's not—"
"Kendra."
She stopped.
"I have nine nights of camera footage," I said.
"Don't tell me he's not your boyfriend."
She looked at the table.
"It was an investment.
I was going to tell you about it."
"When?
After the divorce was filed?"
She didn't answer.
I pulled out my phone and opened the browser.
Allman Properties had a basic website.
Two staff members listed.
A registered business address in a commercial suite downtown.
Filing date: fourteen months ago.
"This company was registered fourteen months ago," I said.
"I deployed eleven months ago.
Which means you were already involved with this before I left."
Her silence was its own answer.
"Were you involved with Derek before my last deployment?"
She looked out the window.
"Kendra.
Were you involved with him before I deployed?"
"It wasn't—" She stopped.
Pressed her fingers to her forehead.
"It wasn't serious yet.
When you left it became—"
"So yes."
She nodded.
Once.
I sat with that for a moment.
The coffee maker clicked off.
Outside, a neighbor's car backed out of a driveway.
"I need to call a lawyer today," I said.
"I know."
"I need you to not move any more money before I do."
"I'm not going to—"
"I need you to say it."
She looked at me.
"I won't move any money."
"And I need the lease on the apartment."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because if you signed a lease using marital funds as the deposit, that affects the financial settlement.
My lawyer will need to know."
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "You've already thought all of this through."
"I had a long flight."
She almost laughed.
It came out wrong, more like a breath than anything, but it was there.
For one strange second we looked at each other across the kitchen table the way two people look at each other when they have known each other for a very long time and have arrived somewhere neither of them expected.
"I didn't want it to be like this," she said.
"I know."
"I want you to know that."
"It doesn't change what happened," I said.
"But I hear you."
She nodded.
She wrapped both hands around her mug.
"What do we tell the kids?"
"The truth.
Age-appropriate.
Together, if you're willing."
"Okay."
"Not today.
After I've talked to a lawyer and we know what the next steps look like."
"Okay," she said again.
I picked up the USB drive from the table and put it back in my jacket pocket.
I gathered the bank statements and the Venmo records and folded them once and put them in the same pocket.
Kendra watched me do it.
"Are you going to use those?" she said.
"In court?"
"I hope it doesn't go to court," I said.
"But yes.
If it does."
She nodded slowly.
She looked tired.
Not the calculating tired from earlier.
Just tired.
I stood up.
"I'm going to call Martinez.
I'll be back in an hour."
I was halfway to the door when she said, "He told me you'd never find out."
I stopped.
"Derek," she said.
"He said you were always gone.
He said you'd never come home early.
He said I was safe." She paused.
"He was wrong about all of it."
I didn't turn around.
I just said, "Yeah.
May you like
He was."
Then I walked out the front door, and this time I left it open behind me.
