Chapter 3
The day before the wedding. I took the train to Lakeview.
I left Sarah with my mom.
I told my mom I was going on a business trip.
She believed me.
She had no idea my husband was cheating on me.
I didn't want her to worry.
By the time I rolled into Lakeview, the afternoon was already slipping away.
I went straight to Emily's apartment complex.
It was upscale, and the security was tight. There was no way in. But I saw it.
There were sheets hanging over the balcony rail.
The kind that only goes up in a newlywed's house.
I took a picture of it.
Then I went to the hotel.
It was five stars, and the lobby was all polished.
They had already started setting up.
Red balloons everywhere, and a flower arch.
I walked over to the guest book table.
There were two names on it.
David Carter and Emily Warren.
Underneath, it read: [May your love last a hundred years, and your hearts stay as one.]
My stomach turned.
But I held it in.
I pulled out my phone and snapped a few shots for evidence.
Then I found a quiet corner and sat down.
I was waiting for someone.
Diane had put me in touch with a private investigator.
He could get me a copy of that license.
Half an hour later, Samuel Reed arrived.
He was a middle-aged man in glasses, with a face nobody would remember.
"Ms. Lane?" Samuel asked.
"That's me," I replied.
He sat down.
"I've got it. David Carter and Emily Warren filed on March 15 of this year, at the city hall's office here in Lakeview."
He handed me a piece of paper.
It was a screenshot of their marriage registration.
David Carter's photo.
Emily Warren's photo.
Date of registration was March 15, 2024.
License number was on the record, in full.
My hands were shaking.
"How did you get this?"
Samuel said, "Don't worry about how. It's real, and it's enough to take to the police."
I nodded.
"And there's more," he said. "I ran a background on Emily Warren."
"What did you find?"
"She used to work at a nightclub."
That stopped me for a second.
"She quit three years ago and hasn't worked since."
"Then what does she live on?"
"Your husband," Samuel said. "I pulled her spending. Designer bags, high end spas, trips overseas. She goes through more than 170 thousand dollars a year, and every dollar of it comes from him."
One hundred and seventy thousand dollars a year.
I made 60 thousand.
I took a breath.
"Is there anything else?"
Samuel hesitated.
"There's one more thing, and you should be ready for it."
"Say it."
"Emily Warren has a child. A boy, three years old."
Something went off in my head.
"Who's the father?"
"The name on the birth certificate is David Carter."
I closed my eyes.
Three years old.
He was born in 2021.
That was less than two years after I had Sarah.
I was still nursing.
David kept saying that work was heavy and that he was always traveling.
I believed him. I stood by him.
And he was keeping a woman and a child on the side.
Three years.
He'd been hiding it from me for three years.
No, that wasn't right.
A pregnancy ran nine months.
They had been together at least four years.
Four years.
It started in 2020.
That was the year of the pandemic, and David said the company was struggling and his pay had been cut.
I pulled out my savings to cover the household.
Twenty seven thousand dollars.
His pay had never been cut.
He had been keeping another woman.
"Ms. Lane?" Samuel's voice brought me back.
I opened my eyes.
"I'm fine," I said.
"So, what's your plan for the wedding tomorrow?" he asked.
I took a moment to think.
"I'm going to make sure every person in that room sees exactly what he is."
Samuel nodded.
"Do you want help?"
"No. I'll do it myself."
I paid him, and he left.
I sat alone in the hotel lobby.
Just watching those red balloons.
It brought back memories of my wedding to David eight years ago.
And yeah, we had the same red balloons back then.
And the same flowers, too.
Back then, I really thought I was the happiest woman in the world.
But now?
Now I was the stupidest one.
My phone buzzed.
David: [Honey, the project's going well today. I might get home early. Missing you and Sarah.]
I wrote back: [Good. We'll be waiting.]
Then I turned off my phone.
I found a flower shop.
"Hi, I need to order a funeral wreath," I said.
The owner blinked, looking surprised.
"A funeral wreath?"
"Yes. White lilies, black ribbon. Print on it, David Carter, rest in peace."
The owner looked at me, a little taken aback.
"Ma'am, are you..."
"I'm his wife," I said. "The first one."
The owner was quiet for a few seconds.
"Understood. What time tomorrow?"
"Ten in the morning. Deliver it to the front entrance of the hotel."
"Done."
I paid for it.
By the time I stepped out of the flower shop, night had already fallen.
I found a hotel nearby and grabbed a room for the night.
I lay in bed, wide awake.
My mind was racing, replaying everything I'd uncovered these past few days.
The transaction records.
The wedding photos.
The property deed.
The birth certificate.
Even Margaret's name was there.
I picked up my phone and called Diane.
"I have everything. Tomorrow I'm going to blow that wedding apart."
Diane asked, "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," I replied.
She said, "Then remember one thing. No matter what happens, don't put a hand on anybody. As long as you don't, the law is on your side."
"I know."
"And I've handled the police. They'll be at the hotel at nine thirty tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Diane."
"Rachel," Diane said, and she meant it, "you're the calmest woman I've ever seen. Anybody else would have come apart by now."
I let out a bitter laugh.
"What good does coming apart do? I want his life. Not literally. His career, his name, and his freedom."
"All right. I'll see you tomorrow."
I hung up.
I just lay there, staring at the ceiling.
"David Carter," I whispered. "Wait for it."