Chapter 2

Mark returned shortly after six that evening, carrying a small paper bag.

He took off his coat, crossed the living room, and kissed my forehead as if nothing had changed.

“Claire, how are you feeling?”

The expensive perfume clinging to his clothes did not belong to me.

“I’m fine.”

“You must be exhausted after everything with your father.”

He handed me the bag and sat beside me.

“I almost forgot that tomorrow is our fifth anniversary.”

Inside was a small bottle of perfume in a delicate gift box.

“It isn’t from a major brand,” Mark said, slipping an arm around my shoulders. “But I thought the scent suited you.”

I recognized the initials printed beneath the box. They belonged to an exclusive designer boutique in the city, one that did not normally sell perfume.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s lovely.”

Mark smiled, apparently satisfied with my answer.

“I booked the steakhouse where I proposed to you. We haven’t been there in years, and I thought somewhere familiar might help after your father passed away.”

“After everything with your father, I wanted you to remember that we still have something good.”

Once, returning to that restaurant would have meant something to me.

Now I could only think about Elena’s card hidden in my drawer and the designer bag she had thanked my husband for buying.

“I’d like that,” I said.

Relief crossed his face.

He believed I knew nothing.

That night, I waited until his breathing became steady before reaching for the phone on his nightstand.

Mark had added my fingerprint years earlier and never removed it. The screen unlocked beneath my thumb, revealing a purchase receipt in his email notifications.

LORRAINE DESIGN HOUSE — $12,800

The purchase had been made the previous evening, at the exact time Mark had called to tell me he was attending a parent meeting at school.

The receipt listed one designer handbag.

Beneath it was another item.

Complimentary fragrance — $0.00

I looked toward the gift box on my dresser.

Mark had spent $12,800 on Elena’s bag and wrapped the free promotional fragrance as my fifth-anniversary present.

His conversation with Elena had been deleted, but the receipt remained.

I photographed the transaction and forwarded a copy to an encrypted email account. Then I returned the phone to the nightstand before Mark could wake.

In the bathroom, I sent the receipt to the attorney I had spoken with that afternoon. I also attached photographs of the flowers, the card, and the shipping label.

Her reply arrived several minutes later.

Keep the originals. Do not confront him until we know what else he may be hiding.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, one hand resting against my still-flat stomach.

Mark believed I would celebrate our anniversary with him the following evening.

He had no idea I already knew where his money had gone.

I typed one final message to the attorney.

Draft the divorce papers. Don’t contact my husband yet.