She looked relieved. She shouldn't have. Because while she slept, I went back to the video and checked every detail I could. There were other files beside it. Photos, short videos, a restaurant receipt, and one folder dated 3 weeks before our wedding.
I opened it. The first photo showed Christine sitting across from Ryan at a restaurant. They were alone, and the date was 6 weeks before the bachelorette party. I stared at the screen. Ryan hadn't been some random man who appeared at her last single weekend.
Christine already knew him, and she'd been meeting him before she married me. The next morning, Christine acted as if the conversation from the night before had never happened. She came downstairs at 7:00, made coffee, and asked me if I wanted breakfast. I looked at her. "Did you sleep well?" She hesitated.
"Not really." "Neither did I." She lowered her eyes. I didn't mention the photo. I didn't tell her that I had found another folder. I wanted to know how much she was willing to lie about before I showed her what I had. "I have to leave early," I said.
"For work?" "Yes." She nodded. "Joshua." I stopped at the door. "I'm sorry." I looked back at her. "For what?" She didn't answer. That was enough for me.
I went to work and spent most of the morning thinking about the photo I had found. Christine had told me Ryan was a friend of one of her friends. That was technically possible, but the photo showed them sitting alone together 6 weeks before our wedding. I needed more than suspicion. So, during my lunch break, I called someone I trusted.
His name was Patrick, and he had known Christine longer than I had. He wasn't one of her closest friends, but But had been around our social circle for years. I asked him one question. Do you know Ryan Callaway? There was a pause.
Yeah. How? Why? Just answer me. Patrick sighed.
Ryan used to work with Christine. My stomach tightened. Used to? At the marketing agency before she moved companies. How long ago?
About a year before you two got married. I stared through the windshield. So they knew each other before the bachelorette party. Yes. Did they date?
Another pause. Joshua? I don't know. You do know something. Patrick was quiet for several seconds.
People used to talk about them. What kind of talk? That they were seeing each other. My grip tightened around the steering wheel. Before me?
I think so. Think? I never saw anything myself. I thanked him and ended the call. That afternoon, I went home earlier than usual.
Christine was sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open. She looked up when I walked in. You said you'd be late. I changed my mind. She closed the laptop.
I put my keys on the counter. How long did you know Ryan? Her expression hardened. I already answered that. No, you didn't.
Joshua, I told you. He was there at my bachelorette party. Before that? She looked away. I pulled out my phone and placed the photo on the table.
Her face changed. Where did you get that? That's not an answer. She picked up the phone. Who gave you this?
I found it. She stared at the picture. Then she sat back down. Okay. Okay?
I knew him before we got married. How long? Almost a year. Did you sleep with him before the wedding? She closed her eyes.
No. I studied her face. Did you kiss him before the bachelorette party? She didn't answer. Christine.
Once. When? Months before. I nodded slowly. And the bachelorette party?
She looked at me. I kissed him again. Only kissed? Yes. I believed one thing.
She had cheated. I didn't believe I knew the whole story. Then why did you go upstairs with him? I told you I was sick. And he followed you?
He wanted to make sure I was okay. While your friends laughed? She looked down. I don't remember everything. That sentence changed the conversation because I had seen enough of the video to know she remembered more than she was admitting.
I stood up. Who else knew? She looked confused. About what? About you and Ryan.
She said nothing. I waited. Finally, she whispered, "Melissa knew." Anyone else? I don't know. I nodded.
That's fine. Christine looked at me. What does that mean? It means I'm done asking you questions. I walked away.
Behind me she called my name. I didn't turn around because I had finally understood something important. Christine wasn't trying to tell me the truth. She was trying to figure out how much of it I already knew and I wasn't going to help her with that anymore. That evening I stopped treating the situation like an argument between a husband and wife.
It was a problem that needed to be handled. The next morning, before I went to work, I called a divorce attorney. Her name was Susan Palmer. I didn't tell Christine where I was going. Susan listened while I explained what I had found starting with the bachelorette video and ending with the photograph of Christine and Ryan at the restaurant.
When I finished, she asked me one question. Do you have copies of everything? Yes. Good. Don't alter anything.
Don't threaten anyone. Don't send the evidence to her friends and don't empty your accounts. I wasn't planning to. Then keep it that way. I appreciated how direct she was.
I told her we had been married for 5 months and had no children. She explained what the divorce process could involve and told me to gather our financial records, property documents, insurance information, and anything else connected to the marriage. Then she asked me something I hadn't expected. Do you intend to stay in the house? I don't know.
Don't make that decision today. I wrote everything down. When I left her office, I felt different. Not better, not worse, just clear. Christine had spent the previous 2 days deciding how much truth I deserved.
I had spent them deciding what I was going to do with the truth. When I got home that afternoon, she was waiting for me. We need to talk. I put my keys down. About what?