Chapter 4 - The Man Who Thought the Marriage Was OverAdrian Mercer did not sound triumphant.
He sounded confused.
That frightened Emily’s father more.
He walked into the kitchen and put the call on speaker.
Claire immediately objected.
“Absolutely not.”
Her husband ignored her.
“Adrian, Claire is here.”
Silence.
Then a man’s voice.
“Oh.”
Claire folded her arms.
“You had no right to call my house.”
Adrian responded, “You told me he moved out.”
Emily’s father looked at Claire.
She laughed bitterly.
“I said our marriage was basically over.”
“You told me you had separate bedrooms,” Adrian said.
“We do sometimes.”
“No, we don’t,” her husband replied.
Emily stood in the hallway.
Her father noticed.
For one second he seemed ready to send her away.
Then he stopped himself.
This time he understood.
Emily had already been forced into the middle.
Pretending she was not there would not protect her.
He lowered the phone.
“Adrian, the twenty-thousand-dollar earnest payment for Briar Lane—where did Claire tell you it came from?”
Claire stepped forward.
“Don’t answer that.”
Adrian paused.
“Her personal funds.”
Emily’s father looked at Claire.
“They weren’t.”
Adrian went silent.
“She transferred the money from my daughter’s education savings.”
“What?”
Claire turned away.
Adrian’s voice changed.
“I didn’t know that.”
Claire snapped, “Of course you didn’t know. Because it wasn’t relevant.”
“It’s relevant now,” Adrian said.
Her husband asked, “Who is buying the property?”
“Claire.”
“Anyone else on the contract?”
“No.”
“Were you planning to live there?”
Another silence.
Emily closed her eyes.
She already knew.
Adrian finally answered.
“Yes.”
Claire spun around.
“You coward.”
Emily’s father’s face seemed to collapse inward.
Not dramatically.
Not like in movies.
His shoulders simply lowered.
“So you were leaving.”
Claire glared.
“You stopped being my husband a long time ago.”
“I came home every night I wasn’t traveling.”
“You came home physically.”
“You renewed our anniversary trip three months ago.”
“Because you solve everything with reservations and money.”
Emily had never heard them talk like this.
She wanted to leave.
But her feet would not move.
Her father looked at Adrian.
“How long?”
Claire said, “Don’t.”
Adrian answered.
“Eight months.”
Emily’s father looked away.
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
For the first time that evening, they seemed real.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“After you used Emily’s money to buy yourself a new house?”
“It was a deposit.”
“It was stolen from her future.”
“Stop calling it stolen.”
Adrian spoke.
“Claire.”
She grabbed the phone from the counter and ended the call.
The kitchen became silent.
Emily’s father stared at the blank screen.
Claire leaned against the island.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth would be interesting.”
“I was unhappy.”
“That explains Adrian.”
He pointed toward the office.
“It doesn’t explain fifty-two thousand dollars.”
“I was going to replace it.”
“With what?”
“When the property sold.”
“You were buying it to flip?”
Claire hesitated.
That tiny pause returned.
Her husband noticed.
“You were going to live there, weren’t you?”
Claire looked away.
He laughed painfully.
“You weren’t replacing anything.”
“I could have.”
“You emptied her account because you thought I wouldn’t discover it until after you left.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then why hide the notices?”
Claire slammed both hands on the island.
“Because I needed time!”
Emily jumped.
Claire saw her.
For a fraction of a second, shame crossed her face.
Then it disappeared.
“You want honesty?” Claire said. “Fine. I needed time.”
“For what?”
“To make sure I wasn’t trapped.”
Her husband stared.
“In this mansion?”
“In a marriage where everything belongs to you.”
“That house would have belonged to you.”
“Yes.”
“With my daughter’s money.”
“I was going to make it right!”
Emily finally spoke.
“When?”
Claire looked at her.
Emily’s voice shook.
“When were you going to make it right?”
Claire opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Emily wiped one tear before it could fall.
“You never even told me.”
“I didn’t want you involved.”
“You involved me when my school started emailing me.”
Claire’s face softened.
“Emily—”
“No.”
Emily backed away.
“Don’t.”
She went upstairs.
Her father followed several minutes later.
He knocked before entering.
Emily sat on her bed with her phone in her lap.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked at him.
“For what?”
He hesitated.
“For making you be the person who discovered this.”
Emily stared at the screen.
“That isn’t the worst part.”
“What is?”
“She knew you might believe her.”
He sat down.
Emily’s throat tightened.
“And she was right.”
He looked at her.
“I played the recording.”
“Yes.”
“But before that, you were already trying to make me calm down.”
He said nothing.
“You always do that.”
“I thought I was keeping peace.”
“You were making me prove everything.”
Her father lowered his eyes.
That answer hurt because it was true.
“I’m sorry.”
Emily did not forgive him.
Not yet.
Instead, she asked, “What happens now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she leaving?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
He looked around the room.
“You’re not losing your home because of this.”
Emily nodded.
Then the doorbell rang.
Both looked toward the hall.
It was almost eight.
Her father went downstairs.
Emily followed halfway.
Through the railing, she watched him open the door.
A delivery driver stood outside carrying a large flat envelope.
“Certified delivery for Claire Whitmore.”
Claire came from the kitchen.
Her expression changed when she saw the envelope.
“What is it?” her husband asked.
“Nothing.”
The driver handed it to her.
As Claire signed, the corner turned toward Emily.
She saw the return address.
A law office in Manhattan.
Claire tore the envelope from the driver’s hand.
Her husband saw it too.
“Why is a divorce attorney sending you certified mail?”
May you like
Claire froze.
For the second time that night, the truth arrived at the front door before she was ready for it.
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