Chapter 8
Alex was quick to dig up information.
On the third day, he placed a folder on my desk. "Emily owns two houses and a car, all handled by Mr. Reed's driver or assistant. She also has a flower shop under her name, but the money actually comes from Mr. Reed's personal account."
I flipped through the documents, the edge of the paper grazing my fingertips, a slight sting.
"Three years," I murmured. "He's been pretty thorough in keeping her comfortable."
Alex didn't say anything.
Alex was sharp. He knew when to keep his mouth shut.
That evening, Jonathan came home.
He was carrying my favorite dessert, and as he stepped inside, his shoes tracked in rainwater, leaving the entryway wet.
"Susan," he said softly, "we need to talk."
I was sitting in the living room, the TV off, only the floor lamp casting a soft glow.
"Let's talk," I said.
He sat across from me, rubbing his temples with a tired expression. "Emily's emotional state is unstable. The doctor said pregnant women shouldn't be stressed."
I looked at him.
He added, "I'm not asking you to give in. I just hope you won't take it out on her."
Suddenly, I found it all so absurd.
So absurd that I couldn't help but let out a short, bitter laugh.
"Jonathan, do you remember the day I slit my wrists? The doctor said I wasn't supposed to be under any stress either," I said.
His face turned ghostly pale in an instant.
Outside, rain pounded the windows, heavy and unending.
I stood up, grabbed a printed stack of transaction records from the drawer, and tossed it onto the coffee table.
"This is every dollar you've poured into Emily over the last three years," I said.
Jonathan glanced down at the records, and his face changed in an instant.
"Houses, cars, a flower shop, jewelry, prenatal care, a nanny," I listed them off slowly. "You say you don't love her, just pity her? Well, your pity is worth a fortune."
He swallowed hard. "I'll make it up to you for every dollar."
"Make it up to me?" I stepped closer. "So you spent our marital assets on your mistress, and now you want to use the same money to 'compensate' me?"
Jonathan looked up, panic finally flashing in his eyes.
I pulled out a second document. "I've already had my lawyer start divorce proceedings and file for asset protection."
"Susan Miller!" he shot to his feet.
It had been ages since he'd called me by my full name.
But I was surprisingly calm.
My nails dug into my palm, the sting making me even more clear-headed.
"Why are you so worked up?" I looked at him. "Didn't you say you loved me? Then walk away with nothing, and save all that pity for Emily."
Jonathan's breathing grew heavier. "I refuse to divorce you."
"Then see you in court," I said.
He stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
I grabbed my bag and walked out.
As I tried to walk past him, Jonathan grabbed my wrist.
I looked down at his grip.
"Let go," I said, my voice cold.
He held on, refusing to move.
Just then, Alex walked in and handed me a folder. "Susan, the lawyer's here. He's waiting downstairs."
Jonathan's hand froze.
I pulled my hand away, not even sparing him a glance.