Chapter 7: She Can Explain Everything
She was waiting outside my building when I got home.
Rebecca was still dressed well — not in the wedding gown, but in the kind of careful, composed outfit that said she had thought about this visit before making it.
Her hands were in her coat pockets.
She looked up when she saw me.
"I just want five minutes," she said.
"You had two years."
"Nathan—"
"Come inside." I didn't say it warmly.
But I wanted to hear what she had prepared.
I wanted to watch her say it.
We sat in the kitchen.
I didn't offer coffee.
She didn't ask for any.
"Callum is not what you think," she said.
"Tell me what he is."
"He's a friend.
An old friend who needed help.
The apartment was a loan, effectively.
He was going through a difficult period and I—"
"His name is on a lease you've been paying for fourteen months."
"It was a private arrangement."
"And the solicitor he recommended to help you petition for custody of my daughter — was that a private arrangement too?"
Rebecca's hands came together on the table.
"I panicked.
After Emily's last school incident, when the teacher called and said she'd been struggling socially — I panicked.
I thought if we had a more structured approach, a plan, something formal—"
"You described her as emotionally troubled in a legal document."
"I was trying to frame it in language the court would respond to—"
"She is seven years old and she is not troubled." My voice came out harder than I intended.
"She lost her mother three years ago.
She is grieving.
There is a difference."
Rebecca was quiet for a moment.
"I know," she said.
Then, more softly: "I know that.
I handled it badly.
I can see that now."
"What did Callum get out of it?"
Her eyes moved to the table.
"Rebecca."
"He advised me on the financial structure of the marriage.
In return, I helped him with the apartment."
"What financial structure."
She didn't answer.
"Was there a prenuptial agreement you were planning to propose?
A joint account arrangement?
What was the structure?"
"It was nothing illegal."
"That's not what I asked."
She looked up.
And for the first time since the chapel, the composure cracked — not into tears, but into something harder and more honest.
"He told me that if I established myself as a co-guardian of Emily before you had time to consult your own solicitor, your assets would be significantly more difficult to protect in the event of a future separation." Her voice was flat now.
"He said it was standard.
He said everyone does it."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"So the plan," I said slowly, "was to marry me, remove Emily from my home before I understood what was happening, establish co-guardianship, and then — at some point — separate under terms that Callum's contact had already structured in your favor."
She didn't deny it.
"Get out of my house," I said.
"Nathan, I—"
"Now.
Please."
She stood.
Her hands were shaking slightly — the first real thing I had seen from her all day.
At the door, she turned back.
"I did care about you," she said.
"That part was real."
"Emily's name was in a legal document," I said.
"That part was also real."
She left.
May you like
I sat in the kitchen for a long time without moving.
Then I picked up the phone and called my solicitor.
