Chapter 8 - The Marriage She Tried to Break
I carried the envelope downstairs.
Mom saw it and sat down before I said anything.
Noah read the note.
His face changed.
“You planted the hotel receipt?”
Diane whispered, “I needed Claire to ask questions.”
I almost laughed.
“You told me not to confront him.”
“I needed distance between you.”
“Why?”
She looked at Noah.
“Because he was getting too close.”
Something colder.
My marriage had become a tool.
If I distrusted Noah, I would stop sharing information with him.
If we separated, he would likely leave Harper Community Properties.
The audit would die with him.
Mom had listened to me cry in her car while knowing she had helped create the fear I was crying about.
“You hugged me,” I whispered.
She covered her face.
“You told me I deserved honesty.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t get to say that like this happened to you too.”
Noah walked to the sink.
His voice was quiet.
“Did you send the anonymous texts?”
I looked at him.
“What anonymous texts?”
Three messages from an unknown number over the past month.
SHE KNOWS.
SHE MET WITH A LAWYER.
YOU SHOULD PROTECT YOURSELF BEFORE SHE TAKES EVERYTHING.
I stared at Mom.
She nodded once.
I felt physically ill.
She had pushed both sides of the marriage apart.
Then Noah said the thing that kept me from turning him into a hero.
“I believed them.”
I looked at him.
“I met with my own attorney.”
Mom looked almost relieved, as if the confession spread blame.
I turned on Noah.
“You what?”
“I wanted to know how to keep you from being tied to the audit if it became criminal.”
“You could have talked to me.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
We stood there, married and furious and manipulated, but still responsible for the choices we made inside the manipulation.
Then the doorbell rang.
It was Michael.
My brother looked exhausted.
He held Noah’s missing laptop.
“I didn’t steal this,” he said.
Mom stood.
May you like
Michael looked at her.
“But I know who did.”
