Chương 10
Three weeks earlier, I might have handed Curtis everything if he had cried convincingly enough.
I hated that possibility.
I hated how close I had lived to being manipulated without even recognizing the machinery.
The door opened.
Melissa entered alone.
Her expression had changed.
Professional, but strained.
“Curtis left.”
Samuel glanced toward the hall.
“Left the building?”
“Yes.”
“That was unwise.”
“I told him that.”
She sat and gathered the pages she had left behind.
“He wants to retain litigation counsel.”
“I assumed.”
“He also wants to know whether voluntary reconciliation would cure the trigger.”
I almost laughed.
Samuel did not.
“No.”
Melissa nodded.
“That’s what I told him.”
“What if I went back?” I asked.
Both of them looked at me.
I regretted the question immediately, but I wanted the answer.
Samuel spoke first.
“The clause concerns conduct already taken.”
“So moving back would not erase it.”
“No.”
Melissa watched me.
“Are you considering going back?”
“No.”
The answer came faster than I expected.
Something about that steadied me.
“No,” I said again.
“I’m not.”
Melissa closed her folder.
“Good.”
Then she seemed to remember herself.
“I mean that personally, not as legal advice.”
I almost smiled.
She stood.
“Vanessa, I represented Curtis in preparing the divorce petition.”
“I figured.”
“There are things I cannot discuss with you.”
“I understand.”
“But one thing is not privileged.”
I waited.
“He was determined to move quickly.”
My fingers tightened around Arthur’s letter.
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because he has already begun suggesting that you abandoned the marital residence.”
Samuel’s eyes sharpened.
Melissa continued.
“I was not present when you left, so I cannot establish what happened there.”
“But?”
“But I know what he told me beforehand.”
She glanced at the door.
“He instructed me to prepare documents because he intended to ask you to leave once Arthur’s estate situation was clear.”
The room felt suddenly cold.
“He said that?”
“Not those exact words.”
She chose the next sentence carefully.
“He stated that he expected the inheritance to make the financial consequences of divorce manageable.”
I looked down.
There it was again.
Not anger.
Not betrayal.
Arithmetic.
Melissa picked up her bag.
“You need your own attorney.”
“I heard you the first time.”
“Good.”
She paused.
“And do not meet Curtis alone.”
I lifted my eyes.
“Why?”
Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly.
“Because he is frightened.”
“Curtis would never hurt me.”
“I didn’t say physically.”
She left.
Samuel walked me to the elevator twenty minutes later after giving me copies of the documents I was entitled to receive.
The folder felt absurdly heavy under my arm.
Downstairs, I stepped into the lobby and stopped.
Curtis was sitting on a stone bench outside the glass doors.
He had not left.
He was staring at his phone.
When he saw me, he stood.
I almost turned back toward the elevators.
Then he lifted both hands.
“I’m not going to start anything.”
I stayed inside.
He waited.
People moved around him on the sidewalk.
A bicycle courier nearly clipped his shoulder and swore without slowing.
Curtis barely noticed.
Finally, I walked through the revolving door.
He fell into step beside me.
“My car is in the garage.”
“Good for you.”
“Can I drive you somewhere?”
“No.”
“Vanessa.”
“I parked two blocks away.”
He looked toward the street.
“You’re still driving the Honda?”
I stopped.
For one ridiculous second, I could not believe that was what he had chosen to ask.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
We continued walking.
At the corner, the light was red.
A woman beside us held a paper bag against her chest while arguing into an earbud about somebody named Trevor forgetting soccer practice.
Curtis shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I called Erica.”
I watched the traffic.
“I don’t care.”
“I ended it.”
“You said there was nothing to end.”
He winced.
“Fair.”
The light changed.
We crossed.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said.
“Do what?”
“Perform remorse.”
“I’m not performing.”
“You’re talking to me because half the estate is gone.”
He did not answer.
“That’s the only reason.”
“No.”
I stopped beside my car.
He looked at the peeling clear coat on the hood.
Something close to embarrassment crossed his face, and I nearly laughed.
Even now.
“I did something awful,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I know that.”
“No, you know it became expensive.”
He looked at me.
The sentence landed.
“I deserve that.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“I know.”
His voice dropped.
“That’s worse.”
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then my phone buzzed inside my purse.
I expected Mrs. Dillard or the flooring company.
It was an unknown number.
A text message waited.
I opened it.
The first line made my stomach tighten.
Vanessa, this is Erica Sloan.
Curtis saw my face change.
“What?”
I stepped away from him.
A second message appeared before I could answer.
You don’t know everything he was planning before Arthur died.
Curtis’s face went completely still.
Curtis did not ask who the message was from.
That told me enough.
I looked from the screen to his face.
“You knew she might contact me.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
I held the phone against my chest.
“What was she going to tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just turned white.”
“I’m standing next to the woman I married while the woman I screwed up with is texting her.”
His voice dropped.
“Forgive me if I’m not relaxed.”
Another message appeared.
Please don’t answer while he’s near you.
I took two steps back.
Curtis watched me do it.
“Vanessa.”
“Go home.”
“I want to explain.”
“You’ve been explaining all morning.”
“I mean about Erica.”
“I don’t want your version first.”
His expression changed.
There was fear again, but this time it was mixed with calculation.
He looked toward the street, then back at me.
“You cannot trust her.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s angry.”
“At you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He rubbed his mouth.
May you like
“Because I ended things.”
“You told me there was nothing to end.”
