Chapter 5

"What do I mean?" I pulled out my phone and showed him the bank transaction records. "Mind explaining these transfers to Sherry?"

Declan went deathly pale the moment he saw the bank records. "Claire, wait, I can explain—" Declan pleaded.

I cut him off sharply. "Explain what? How have you been using my money to keep your mistress?"

"It's not like that," he shook his head hastily. "Shelly was in a tough spot. I was helping her out, that's all."

"Helping her?" I was stunned by his shamelessness. "Declan, you're using my money to support your mistress—the woman you're sleeping with. How dare you think that's acceptable?"

"Claire, please, just calm down for a second," Declan pleaded.

"I'm perfectly calm." I put my phone away. "Declan, expect a call from my lawyer tomorrow. Get ready for the divorce papers."

I turned to leave when he grabbed me by the arm.

"No way! I won't agree to divorce," Declan shouted.

"You don't agree?" I yanked my arm free from his grip. "Declan, it's not up to you—I'm the one filing for divorce."

"After three years of marriage, Claire, you're just going to walk away like it's nothing?"

"Nothing?" I laughed out of anger. "Declan, you're the one who threw away our marriage without a second thought—not me."

"I didn't throw away our marriage. I love you, Claire."

"Love me?" I pointed at him. "Is this how you show love—by cheating on me? By letting me catch you in the act? By spending my hard-earned money on another woman?"

Declan was left speechless.

"Declan, your love is too cheap," I said coldly. "I don't give a damn."

With that, I walked upstairs without looking back.

"Claire, mark my words—you'll regret this!" Declan shouted from behind.

I stopped and turned to face him. "Regret? Declan, the only thing I regret is ever marrying you."

*****

Back at my studio, I collapsed onto the couch. Every conversation with Declan leaves me emotionally drained.

He always wanted to explain, yet his explanations were nothing but excuses.

Worse, he still seemed to believe he'd done nothing wrong.

"Help Shelly? What a joke," I scoffed.

Whoever heard of "help" that ended up between the sheets?

Or "help" that came with leeching off his wife's money?

I took out my phone and texted Vivian: [Ms. Miller, please draft the divorce petition immediately. He won't agree to an uncontested divorce.]

Vivian replied quickly: [Got it. I'll handle the paperwork.]

After dealing with that, I started packing my things.

Now that I've decided on divorce, I need to prepare for the future.

Over these three years of marriage, I'd left so much behind in Sterling Manor.

Personal belongings, work documents, and some mementos were there.

I needed to fetch them.

But going there now would have meant running into Declan for sure.

I wanted nothing more to do with him.

After a moment's thought, I called Emery Wright, the Sterlings' maid.

Emery had been with the Sterling family for many years—a truly kind-hearted lady.

"Emery, it's me," I said.

"Mrs. Sterling, why haven't you been home these past few days? Mr. Sterling has been waiting for you every single day."

"Declan and I are getting a divorce, Emery."

Silence filled the line for a long moment.

"Emery, are you still there?" I asked.

"Y-yes, I am," Emery's voice quivered. "Mrs. Sterling, is there some misunderstanding between you and Mr. Sterling?"

"No misunderstanding. He cheated on me," I answered.

Emery fell silent again.

I took a deep breath and said, "Emery, I need to ask you something. Please be honest with me."

"Of course, please go ahead," Emery said.

"Did Shelly come to the house often?" I asked.

Emery hesitated for a moment. "Yes."

"What did she do there?"

"Mrs. Sterling, I..."

"Emery, please tell me the truth—I need to know what happened."

Emery sighed. "Ms. Caldwell visited frequently. Sometimes she stayed overnight. Mr. Sterling said she's his assistant and told me to take good care of her."

My heart was pierced with fresh agony.

"Overnight?" I asked.

"Yes, she has her room, the guest room," Emery said.

"What did she do?"

"Sometimes she'd cook, saying she wanted to prepare Mr. Sterling's favorite dishes. Sometimes she tidied Mr. Sterling's clothes. I thought it was inappropriate, but Mr. Sterling said it was fine."

I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears.