Chapter 2 - The Woman on the Other End
I stared at the photograph until the edges of the room seemed to blur.
Liam wore the gray jacket I had bought him for our engagement photos.
The woman beside him had dark blond hair and a red handbag.
His hand rested at the small of her back.
They were standing outside the Fairmont downtown.
Three weeks before our wedding.
My mother noticed my face.
“What is it?”
I locked the screen.
“Nothing I want to deal with tonight.”
Ethan heard me.
“That means it’s something.”
“It can wait.”
For once, my family listened.
By ten thirty, everyone had left except my mother.
She helped me load the dishwasher while Hailey slept against my chest.
“You don’t need to be strong every minute,” Mom said.
“I’m not trying to be.”
“You haven’t cried.”
“I cried six days ago.”
That first night after the call, I had stood beneath the shower so Liam wouldn’t hear me.
The next morning, I had fed our daughter.
Changed her.
Washed bottles.
Made coffee.
And somewhere between sterilizing a pacifier and folding newborn pajamas, grief turned into planning.
Mom dried her hands.
“Do you know who the woman is?”
“No.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
That answer surprised both of us.
Not because I wanted competition.
I wanted facts.
After Mom went to sleep in our guest room, I carried Hailey upstairs.
Liam’s side of the closet looked strangely peaceful without him.
I sat on the bed.
Then I reopened the unknown text.
Who are you?
The reply came thirty seconds later.
Someone who made the same mistake you did.
I typed.
Marrying Liam?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Returned.
Trusting him.
I stared at the screen.
Are you the woman from the call?
No.
My heartbeat accelerated.
Then who are you?
No reply.
I sent another.
How do you have that picture?
Still nothing.
The next morning, my attorney called at 8:10.
Her name was Danielle Morris.
Forty-three.
Sharp voice.
Sharper instincts.
I had found her through a former coworker.
“Did he leave voluntarily?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Any confrontation?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Danielle, I received something last night.”
I explained.
There was a brief silence.
“Save screenshots.”
“I already did.”
“Forward everything to me.”
“Do you think it matters legally?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But patterns matter when finances start getting complicated.”
“Finances?”
“We discussed this, Emma. Once infidelity enters the picture, people sometimes discover money moved with it.”
My chest tightened.
Liam controlled most of our long-term accounts.
Not because he had demanded it.
Because before Hailey, I had worked full time as a graphic designer and hated dealing with investments.
He enjoyed it.
So I trusted him.
That word was beginning to feel expensive.
After the call, I logged into our joint accounts.
Checking.
Savings.
Mortgage.
Nothing obvious.
Then I remembered our travel account.
We had opened it before our honeymoon.
I entered the password.
Denied.
I tried again.
Denied.
The password had been changed.
I called the bank.
After twenty-two minutes of verification, the representative confirmed I still had access.
She reset the login.
I opened the transaction history.
At first, nothing seemed strange.
Then I saw them.
Monthly transfers.
$1,200.
$1,500.
$900.
$1,600.
All going to the same external account.
They had started fourteen months ago.
Before I became pregnant.
Before the woman in Liam’s version of events supposedly existed.
I scrolled farther.
Hotel charges.
Restaurants.
A jewelry store purchase for $2,840.
The same week Liam had told me our anniversary budget needed to be “reasonable.”
I photographed everything.
At 11:17, Liam called.
I let it ring.
Then again.
Then again.
Finally, a text.
We need to talk about Hailey.
I replied.
You can text.
I’m her father. You can’t keep her from me.
I haven’t. Tell me what you need to discuss.
Five minutes passed.
I want to come home tonight.
I nearly laughed.
That isn’t about Hailey.
Emma, stop acting like this.
I read that message three times.
Like this.
As if my response were the crisis.
Not his choices.
Another message.
My parents won’t let me stay there.
So that was it.
I typed.
You’ll need a hotel or apartment.
His reply was immediate.
You embarrassed me in front of everyone and now my own parents are against me. Happy?
I looked at Hailey sleeping beside me.
Then wrote:
No. But I’m no longer responsible for protecting you from the consequences of what you did.
He did not respond.
At two that afternoon, the unknown number texted again.
You found the transfers yet?
My skin turned cold.
I typed.
How do you know about those?
This time the answer arrived immediately.
Because some of them were sent to me.
I stood so suddenly that my coffee spilled.
Who are you?
A photograph arrived.
The same blond woman.
Only now she was facing the camera.
And suddenly I recognized her.
Not personally.
From our wedding.
She had been there.
Sitting four rows behind Liam’s parents.
I remembered because she had worn green.
I remembered Liam introducing her briefly.
Rachel. A friend from college.
The next message appeared.
My name is Rachel Pierce.
Then another.
May you like
And Liam told me your marriage was only temporary before you ever walked down the aisle.
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