Chương 6
"Mr. Hayes, would you like to respond?"
Julian looked around the room.
He was searching for sympathy.
For someone who would rescue him.
He didn't find it.
"I made mistakes."
The room stayed silent.
"I was under pressure."
My hands rested on the table.
Still.
Controlled.
"What kind of pressure?"
He looked at me.
And for a second, I saw anger.
Not regret.
Anger.
"You weren't listening to me."
Several board members exchanged looks.
Julian continued.
"The company was changing."
"I was trying to create opportunities."
Rebecca glanced at the documents.
"By transferring company funds?"
"I intended to repay everything."
There it was.
The sentence people used when they wanted forgiveness before admitting wrongdoing.
I leaned forward.
"When?"
He didn't answer.
"When did you intend to repay it?"
Silence.
My father sat beside me.
He didn't move.
He didn't need to.
Everyone in that room understood the answer.
There was no plan.
Only hope that nobody would notice.
Julian looked at me.
"Maya, you have to understand."
I almost interrupted.
But I didn't.
I wanted to hear what came next.
"You built your whole life around this company."
His voice became softer.
"I built mine around you."
That sentence would have destroyed me months earlier.
Maybe even days earlier.
But now it sounded like something rehearsed.
"You don't get to use our marriage as evidence that I should ignore what you did."
His face tightened.
"I'm not saying that."
"You are."
The room became quiet again.
Chloe sat at the end of the table.
She had barely spoken.
That was unusual.
Chloe had always filled silence.
She hated being forgotten.
But tonight she looked small.
Not innocent.
Just smaller.
Rebecca turned toward her.
"Ms. Morgan, do you want to provide a statement?"
Chloe looked at Julian.
Not me.
Him.
That tiny movement answered a question I hadn't asked.
They were not united anymore.
Fear had started separating them.
"I didn't know about all of it," she said.
Julian turned sharply.
"What?"
Chloe swallowed.
"I knew about some expenses."
The room changed.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Like a door opening.
I watched Julian's face.
For the first time that day, he looked genuinely surprised.
"You told me those were approved."
"They were supposed to be."
"Chloe."
Her eyes filled.
"I thought you had permission."
Nobody spoke.
Because the truth was arriving in pieces.
Not through a confession.
Through two people realizing they couldn't protect themselves and each other at the same time.
Rebecca collected the documents.
"The company will continue the investigation."
She looked at both of them.
"Until then, neither of you will access company systems, financial records, or facilities."
The meeting ended.
People left slowly.
Nobody rushed to escape.
Nobody wanted to be the first person to act normal.
I remained seated.
Julian stopped near the door.
"Maya."
I looked up.
His expression had changed.
The confidence was gone.
The anger too.
Only exhaustion remained.
"I never wanted to hurt you."
I believed he meant it.
That was the worst part.
Because people could regret hurting someone and still choose to hurt them.
"I know," I said.
He looked surprised.
"I know you didn't wake up every morning planning to destroy me."
I gathered the papers.
"But you did it anyway."
He stood there for a moment.
Then he walked out.
And this time, I didn't watch him leave.
For three days after the board meeting, I did not see Julian.
That was not because he disappeared.
It was because he stopped knowing where he belonged.
His office remained locked.
His company email stayed disabled.
His name still appeared on old documents, meeting invitations, and internal directories.
The strange thing about removing someone from a place was how much evidence of them remained afterward.
A name on a printer access list.
A photograph in a hallway.
A saved contact in someone's phone.
A chair nobody wanted to sit in because everyone was used to seeing him there.
Morgan Events Group continued moving.
That was the part I struggled with most.
I expected the company to feel different.
Broken.
Damaged.
But people still arrived at nine.
The coffee machine still broke every morning.
Clients still called.
Employees still needed answers.
The world did not stop because my marriage ended.
I found that unfair.
Then I found it comforting.
Life continuing meant I had something to hold onto.
On the fourth morning, Olivia walked into my office carrying two coffees.
She placed one on my desk.
"I didn't ask for this," I said.
"I know."
She sat down.
"That's why I brought it."
I looked at her.
She shrugged.
"You always forget to eat when you're stressed."
The comment caught me off guard.
Not because it was surprising.
Because it was kind.
For weeks, I had been surrounded by people asking what happened.
What I would do.
Who was right.
Who was wrong.
Nobody had asked whether I had eaten.
I took a sip of coffee.
"Thank you."
Olivia looked toward the window.
"Can I say something?"
"That depends."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"There you are."
I raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"The sarcastic version of you."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
"I've been told she's difficult."
"She's my favorite version."
The moment passed quickly.
But I remembered it.
Because those small moments were the only things keeping the days from becoming nothing but evidence and decisions.
The audit continued.
Every afternoon, Rebecca sent updates.
Some were small.
Some were devastating.
The company had discovered that Julian had used his position to approve expenses without proper review.
Chloe had helped organize several payments.
But the deeper the investigation went, the more complicated it became.
She had not created the system.
She had entered one that already existed.
That distinction mattered legally.
Emotionally, it was harder.
Because Chloe had not needed to create the betrayal.
She had chosen to participate in it.
My mother called every evening.
May you like
At first, our conversations lasted less than five minutes.
She would ask if I needed anything.
