Chương 2
That caught my attention.
“What?”
She rubbed her thumb along the edge of her glass.
“I don’t know if it matters.”
“Usually when someone says that, it matters.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
“My husband says the same thing.”
“And is he usually right?”
“Unfortunately.”
For the first time that night, I smiled.
A real one.
Barely.
But enough.
Marissa lowered her voice.
“I saw some expense approvals last month.”
“What kind?”
“Vendor payments.”
“Related to the lodge?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What did you see?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“I saw Chloe’s name attached to some of the communications.”
“That isn’t unusual.”
“No.”
She looked toward the fireplace.
“That’s why I ignored it.”
The sentence stayed between us.
Ignored it.
A lot of problems survived because reasonable people ignored uncomfortable things.
“What changed?” I asked.
Marissa looked at me.
“You asking questions.”
Before I could respond, she shook her head.
“I’m not saying Graham did anything wrong. I’m not trying to accuse anyone.”
“I know.”
“I just think people started noticing things.”
“What things?”
She lowered her voice.
“The way decisions changed after Chloe arrived.”
I waited.
“She started attending meetings she wasn’t supposed to attend. She began reviewing budgets outside her department. Graham started defending her ideas before anyone criticized them.”
Marissa looked embarrassed.
“Honestly, I thought maybe I was being unfair.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes women get judged differently at work.”
The honesty of that answer surprised me.
She wasn’t trying to attack Chloe.
She was trying to be fair.
That made the information more valuable.
“Did you report anything?”
Marissa shook her head.
“To who?”
The question was simple.
The answer was not.
Because Graham was the person many employees would have reported to.
And if the problem involved Graham, where did people go?
I thanked her and returned upstairs.
The hallway smelled like pine cleaner and expensive perfume.
Chloe’s perfume.
I noticed it because I had noticed it earlier but refused to admit it mattered.
At my door, I found Graham waiting.
He stood with his hands in his pockets.
For a second, he looked like the man I married.
The man who held my hand during my mother’s illness.
The man who slept on a hospital chair because he refused to leave me alone.
Then I remembered him carrying my overnight bag away from the master suite.
“I think we need to talk,” he said.
I unlocked the door.
“We do.”
He followed me inside but stopped near the entrance.
“I don’t want this to become something bigger than it is.”
I placed the invoices on the desk.
“It already is.”
His eyes moved toward the papers.
“Eleanor.”
“Why did you approve the renovations?”
“Because the lodge needed updates.”
“Why did you personally approve them?”
“Because I’m the CEO.”
“Why did C&R Interiors get the contract?”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“Because they were qualified.”
“Chloe’s brother owns the company.”
The room went quiet.
Graham looked away for half a second, and that was enough.
A person could deny a lot of things with confidence.
They struggled more with silence.
“It’s a coincidence,” he said.
I almost admired how quickly he found the sentence.
Not because it was convincing.
Because it was practiced.
“How many companies submitted bids?” I asked.
“Three.”
“And how many were connected to people you know?”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re making assumptions.”
“No.”
I tapped the papers.
“I’m looking at documents.”
He stepped farther into the room.
“You think I would steal from you?”
The question landed differently than he intended.
Because he had changed the subject.
Not from the money.
From the relationship.
“You keep saying me,” I said.
His eyebrows moved slightly.
“What?”
“You keep asking whether I think you would hurt me.”
“I’m your husband.”
“Yes.”
“And you think I’m capable of doing this?”
I looked at him.
The hardest part was that I still saw pieces of the man I married.
That was what made betrayal confusing.
People did not become strangers overnight.
They carried familiar faces into unfamiliar choices.
“I think you made decisions you didn’t want me to see,” I said.
He rubbed his forehead.
“You’re upset because of Chloe.”
“I’m upset because company money paid for a bedroom you gave her.”
“That is not what happened.”
“Then explain what happened.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out immediately.
For years, Graham had always had an answer.
A sentence.
A reason.
A way to make complicated things sound manageable.
Watching him search for words unsettled me more than anger would have.
“She was helping with the retreat,” he finally said.
“Her brother’s company renovated the room.”
“Her brother owns a legitimate business.”
“That isn’t the question.”
“What is the question?”
I held his gaze.
“Did you choose them because they were the best option or because you wanted to reward someone close to you?”
He looked offended.
Actually offended.
That almost made me angry.
Not because he was innocent.
Because he still believed his discomfort mattered more than mine.
“You’re looking for a crime where there isn’t one.”
“Maybe.”
I folded my arms.
“Then you should have no problem with an independent review.”
His expression changed.
There it was.
The first real reaction.
Not anger.
Fear.
“You want to bring auditors into this?”
“I want the company records examined.”
“You know what that would do?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
His voice rose slightly.
“It would create panic.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“It would create questions.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
I looked at the papers.
“Only if people have reasons to be afraid.”
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then his voice lowered.
“You’re my wife.”
The words sounded like an appeal.
A reminder of loyalty.
Not love.
“You should be on my side.”
I felt something inside me move.
Not break.
Something quieter.
Something that had been holding on.
“I was on your side,” I said.
May you like
My voice surprised me because it was calm.
“I was on your side when you worked eighteen-hour days and came home exhausted.”
