Chapter 6: The Man Who Thought He Still Had Time
Her name was Patricia Holt.
She had a calm voice and asked precise questions and didn't react to anything I told her with more than a brief pause before the next question.
By the end of the call I understood why Carol had recommended her.
"Don't move out," Patricia said.
"Don't confront him about the affair directly again.
Don't tell him you've spoken to a lawyer.
Go about your normal routine and let me do the work."
"He's going to notice something is different."
"Then be boring.
Give him nothing to react to."
"For how long?"
"Two to three weeks.
I want to see the financial picture first.
Joint accounts, any assets in his name only, the house deed.
Send me everything you can access without raising flags."
I thought about the voice memo.
*It's actually the easiest it's been in years.*
"I can do that," I said.
The next two weeks were the strangest of my life.
I fed the babies and did laundry and made dinner and sat beside Richard on the couch in the evenings, and he had no idea.
He was even attentive — more than usual, in the way people sometimes are when guilt is looking for somewhere to put itself.
He brought home flowers once.
He offered to take the night feeding two nights in a row.
I said thank you.
I smiled.
I gave him nothing.
David called on a Thursday.
"I just wanted to check in," he said.
"After the other night."
"I'm okay," I said.
"Actually — David, can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"How long have you known Richard?"
"Eighteen years.
Since college."
"In those eighteen years.
Did you ever — did anything ever seem off to you?
About him?"
A pause.
Longer than a social pause.
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Because I think you're an honest person," I said.
"And I don't have many of those around me right now."
Another pause.
"There was a woman," David said carefully.
"About two years ago.
I saw them together at a bar — it looked like more than colleagues.
I asked him about it directly.
He told me it was nothing.
I wanted to believe him." A breath.
"I should have said something to you.
I've thought about it since."
"You couldn't have known how far it went."
"No.
But I could have told you what I saw." He paused again.
"Is it bad?"
"It's bad," I said.
"What do you need?"
"Right now?
Nothing.
But I might need a witness at some point.
Someone who can speak to his character."
"You have one," David said.
"Whatever you need."
I thanked him and hung up.
That evening Richard came home from work and kissed me on the cheek and asked what was for dinner, and I told him, and he said it sounded great.
His phone lit up on the counter while he was washing his hands.
I didn't look at it.
I didn't need to.
Patricia called the next morning.
May you like
"I've found something," she said.
"You need to come in."
