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?
About us. There is no us to discuss until I know what actually happened. She took a breath. I told you what happened. No, you told me you kissed him.
That's what happened. You also told me you didn't remember everything. She looked away. I was drunk. You keep using that as an excuse.
I'm not making excuses. You are. Her voice rose. What do you want me to say? The truth.