Chapter 1
My wife, Claire Bennett, and I had been married for eight years, and we'd never had a single argument.
Then, out of nowhere, she asked for a divorce. She said people were spreading rumors about our family, and we could remarry when things blow over.
I didn't say anything. I just signed the papers.
As Claire walked out with her suitcase, she turned back and smiled at me. "Wait for me."
The moment the door closed, my smile disappeared.
I opened the drawer and pulled out a thick file of evidence. It included her first love's medical records, her hospital visits every Wednesday, and the details of the 327 thousand dollars she'd secretly transferred.
There were also screenshots of Claire's chat with her first love's mother. Claire said: [Don't worry, Mrs. Stone. I'll go back and divorce my husband. I'll be there for your son in his final days.]
I closed the file and picked up my phone to make a call to my lawyer, Edison Parker.
"Edison, push the divorce agreement through as fast as possible. And about getting my assets back, just follow my previous instructions."
Guess what a man who spent eight years playing the perfect husband did first once he finally took the mask off.
*****
The day Claire asked for a divorce was a Wednesday.
Wasn't it ironic? Wednesday, of all days.
Even her lies had to stick to the schedule, like she couldn't let a single Wednesday go to waste.
I was in the kitchen, heating up some milk.
She walked in, her makeup a bit more refined than usual, and her suitcase was already set in the entryway.
"Honey," she said.
I turned around and saw her leaning against the doorframe, her eyes gentle, but there was a trace of unease in her smile.
"What's up?" I asked.
"There's something I've been thinking about it for a while, and I felt I should talk to you about it," Claire said.
I poured the milk into a cup and handed it to her. "Go ahead."
She took the cup but didn't drink, her fingers nervously twisting around the rim.
"Lately, people have been spreading all kinds of crazy rumors about us. I'm worried it might mess with your work. I was thinking maybe we could get divorced for now, and once things blow over, we can get married again. What do you think?"
As she spoke, her eyes stayed locked on my face, like she was searching for something in my expression.
I fell silent for three seconds.
During those three seconds, my mind was spinning with all kinds of thoughts.
But in the end, all that came out was a simple, "Okay."
She froze for a moment, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily.
"You're not even going to ask what the rumors are?" she asked.
I smiled, "You said we'd get back together when things blow over, so I'll wait. I trust you."
Her eyes grew misty.
She walked over and hugged me, her voice soft and a little choked. "Thank you, honey."
I patted her back, saying nothing.
What I was thinking was that the hand she had around me had been holding Michael Stone's at hospital two days earlier.
Everything moved fast after that.
She had the divorce papers printed out ahead of time, all neat and official. Under the section on dividing assets, it simply stated that each of us would keep whatever was in our own name.
I glanced at it and signed.
She signed too.
Then she stood at the door with her suitcase, turned back, and flashed me a smile.
"Wait for me," Claire said.
I leaned against the cabinet by the door and waved at her.
"Okay, take care on the way."
The door closed.
The click of her heels grew fainter and fainter until it was gone at the end of the hallway.
I stood there, my smile slowly disappearing, as if someone was gently erasing it from my face, little by little.
I turned and walked into the study, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a brown paper file.
Inside was all the evidence the private investigator I hired three months ago compiled for me, for 50 thousand dollars.
Michael Stone, 34, was Claire's college boyfriend. They were together for two years, but broke up when he was unfaithful.
Eight years ago, Claire became my wife.
Three years ago, Michael found out he had chronic kidney failure and had to start long-term dialysis.
Two years ago, Claire started telling me she was working late every Wednesday, but she was actually at hospital caring for him.
A year and a half ago, Claire started moving money from our joint account into an account I didn't recognize.
At first, the amounts were small, at seven hundred or a thousand at a time. But they kept climbing, to three thousand, then seven thousand.
As of that day, the total she had moved out came to 328,100 dollars.
The recipient was Susan Stone.
She was Michael's mother.
And then there was that chat screenshot.
Claire messaged Susan: [Don't worry, Mrs. Stone. I'll go back and divorce my husband. I'll be there for your son in his final days.]
I closed the file and put it back in the drawer.
I picked up my phone and made the first call to my lawyer, Edison Parker.
"Edison, it's Richard Hayes. I'll be getting the divorce certificate today. Start preparing the paperwork for recovering the assets transferred during the marriage, and go ahead with the lawsuit."
Edison sounded relieved. "Mr. Hayes, I've been waiting for you to finally say this."
I hung up and dialed the second number.
"David Carter, I'll be there in person at tomorrow's shareholders' meeting," I said.
There was a brief silence on the other end, then a low chuckle.
"Damn, you finally came to your senses?" David said.