Chapter 4

At midnight, the last guests finally left.

The nanny took Owen and Celeste upstairs, leaving Gavin, Tessa, and me alone beside the dying fire.

“It's finally over,” Gavin said, pulling off his tie.

He turned immediately to Tessa.

“Are you tired? You shouldn't stay up this late while you're pregnant.”

“I'm fine,” Tessa replied sweetly. “I'll help Elowen clean everything. She worked the hardest tonight.”

“No.”

I stood in front of the fireplace and interrupted her.

Gavin frowned. “Elowen, what's wrong with you? You've had a long face all evening. Do you know how perfunctory you were in front of our guests?”

“Perfunctory?”

I reached into my apron pocket and removed Gavin's phone. Then I placed the printed hotel records, photographs, messages, and transfer receipts on the coffee table.

The color drained from his face.

Tessa took half a step backward.

“Elowen,” Gavin said, “you went through my phone?”

I slammed the evidence onto the table. The papers scattered across the carpet.

“You had an affair under my nose for an entire year. Tessa, I paid for your education, rented an apartment for you, and welcomed you into my home when you had nowhere to go.”

My voice trembled, but I did not stop.

“While I was crying in the hospital because I couldn't conceive another child, you held my hand and comforted me. All that time, you were trying to become pregnant with my husband's child.”

Tessa's eyes filled with tears. She dropped to her knees and reached for my skirt.

“Elowen, I'm sorry! It's all my fault. Gavin and I are truly in love, but I never intended to destroy your family. I'll leave right now. Please don't blame him.”

I stepped away from her hand.

Gavin immediately pulled her up and placed her behind him.

“Enough, Elowen! Take your anger out on me. Tessa is pregnant. She can't become emotional.”

He glared at me without the slightest trace of remorse.

“What's done is done. What can you change by making a scene? I made a mistake that countless men have made. Do you have to keep behaving like a shrew?”

My phone remained hidden in my apron pocket, silently recording his confession and every insult.

A shrew.

That was his judgment of me after nine years of marriage and two children.

I pressed my palm against the phone to make sure the recording was still running.

“Go on, Gavin,” I said. “Tell me what else you think I deserve.”