Chapter 3
From that day on, I started preparing.
I was not preparing to win him back.
I was preparing to leave him.
Diana King had been in my college class, and she handled divorce cases.
After I told her everything, she asked me one question.
"What do you want?"
"I want to walk away clean," I said.
"You don't want anything out of him?" she asked.
"I'll take what's mine, down to the last dollar. I won't take a dollar more," I said.
She glanced at me and smiled.
"Emma, you're still the most clear headed person I know," she said.
"I have to be," I said. "If I lose my head, I never get out."
"Do you know what he's actually worth?" Diana asked.
"Roughly," I said.
"Roughly isn't enough." Diana slid a checklist across the table. "Get exact numbers. Real estate, cars, bank accounts, funds, stocks, company shares. Don't miss anything."
She lowered her voice. "And look at the transfers he's made to those women."
I was taken aback.
"Is that even possible?" I asked.
"It is," she said. "As long as you have a good attorney."
Over the next month, I got a lot done.
First, I went through everything we owned.
Richard worked in investments, and he had three companies, two apartments, and two cars.
He had about 6.7 million dollars spread across different accounts.
Another 1.7 million dollars sat in funds and stocks.
All of it was in his name.
Our joint account held 670 thousand dollars.
He had moved the rest somewhere else.
Second, I hired a private investigator.
His name was Frank Ford, a man in his forties who looked like a retired high school teacher.
"What do you need me to look into?" he asked.
"My husband," I said.
"Cheating?" he asked.
"Yeah. I need proof," I replied.
"Photos? Videos? Chat logs?" he asked.
"All of it," I said.
Frank worked fast.
Three days later, he sent me a file.
I opened it and went still.
Richard was not seeing three women.
He was seeing five.
I went through them one at a time.
Sophie Green, 25, a yoga instructor.
Lucy Young, 23, a college student.
Chloe Miles, 27, a flight attendant.
Grace Miller, 31, his married college classmate.
And Maggie Wesley, 29, his business partner.
There were five of them.
Five women in five years.
That averaged out to one a year.
But the math didn't work that way, because they overlapped.
He was with Sophie and Lucy at the same time.
And while he was with Chloe, he was also with Grace.
Their timelines ran like five parallel lines that crossed and overlapped, always circling back to him.
I closed the file, sat down on the couch, and looked at the ceiling.
I found it hilarious.
If Richard had put that kind of time management into his companies, they would have gone public years ago.
Instead, he spent it on this.
Third, I found a job.
I had been a designer before the wedding and had not worked for five years.
But my portfolio was intact, and my contacts were still there.
I sent out 10 applications, interviewed at 3 firms, and received 2 offers.
I took the one that paid more.
The woman running the studio went through my portfolio and said, "You should not have taken five years off."
"I know," I said.
"When can you start?" she asked.
"In a month," I replied.
"That long?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Gotta finalize my divorce first," I said.
She looked at me and grinned.
"Okay, I'll wait for you," she said.
The fourth thing was the most important one.
I went to the hospital for a checkup.
I wasn't there because I thought I might be pregnant.
It was because I had not had a period in two months.
I assumed it was stress.
But the doctor looked up and said, "Congratulations. You're six weeks along."
I sat in that exam room, looked at the small spot on the ultrasound, and laughed.
Then I cried.
Because I could not tell whether it was good news or bad news.
"Where's the father?" the doctor asked.
"We're divorced," I said.
"Oh." The doctor didn't press it. "Just come in for your appointments on time. We'll open your file next visit."
I walked out of the hospital, stood by the entrance, and looked at the ultrasound in my hand.
Six weeks along.
That put the conception two months back.
Two months ago, Richard and I were still sleeping together.
And at the same time, he was with Sophie, Lucy, Chloe, Grace, and Maggie.
I put the timeline together.
Two months ago, he had taken Sophie to Miami.
He had taken Lucy to Nashville.
He had taken Chloe to Japan.
And then there was Grace.
Grace had not gone on any trip, because she had gone to a hospital.
There was a photograph in Frank's file that said it all.
Grace was walking out of the OB office with a report in her hand, and Richard was beside her with a hand on her arm.
The photo was dated two months earlier.
Grace was pregnant too.
Richard had gotten two women pregnant at once.
That wasn't right.
It was actually three.
Sophie's chat log included a line about thinking she might be pregnant.
I didn't know whether she had kept it.
I stood at the hospital entrance while the cold wind came through.
I looked down at my belly and said it quietly.
"Little one, you picked a terrible time to show up."