"Possibly not at the level expected. There were permit delays. Contractor disputes appear likely. And there may have been additional capital contributions from Kimberly."
"That's one question."
"From Jason, another."
Roger looked at the LLC name again.
K&W Residential Partners.
For 16 months, Kimberly had been part owner of a company with the man Roger found walking out of their bedroom. Sixteen months.
Kimberly had told him the affair was a few months. Roger did not automatically treat the business relationship as proof the affair had lasted 16 months.
He had learned that lesson already. A connection was not a conclusion. But it created questions.
A lot of them.
That afternoon, Roger returned to work. He found Mark near the plan room.
"Remember that Westerville duplex? I recused myself from it."
Mark thought for a second. "Maplecrest."
"Yes."
"What about it?"
"Do you remember why I stepped away?"
"Your wife was connected to ownership."
Roger nodded. "I may need documentation of the recusal eventually."
Mark studied him. "Legal issue?"
"Potentially."
Mark did not ask for details. "I'll preserve the assignment history."
"Thank you."
Roger returned to his desk. He did not open the Westerville project. He could have. His system credentials probably still allowed him to search the address.
But Mark's old instruction had been clear.
Do not access project further.
Roger obeyed it. That choice felt small. It would not remain small.
At 5:26 p.m., Amanda emailed. She had received another batch of financial records. Roger opened the attachment from his hotel room.
One document showed the LLC account setup.
K&W Residential Partners LLC.
Authorized parties: Kimberly Barry, Jason Whitmore.
Roger read the names. Below them was the date the account had been opened: 14 months earlier, the same period when unexplained withdrawals had begun appearing.
Roger leaned back. His phone remained silent. Kimberly had not contacted him all afternoon.
For once he was grateful. He looked at the letters again.
K&W.
For days, Roger had been trying not to connect facts before evidence connected them for him. Now the evidence was doing exactly that.
Kimberly had not merely shared a bedroom with Jason. She had shared a company with him, a property, an investment, and apparently money that Roger had spent years protecting.
He closed the document. The initials remained in his mind.
K for Kimberly. W for Whitmore.
Roger finally understood that the affair he had discovered at 9:17 on Tuesday night might have been only the smallest secret in the house.
The divorce papers were delivered to Kimberly on a Monday morning. Roger knew because Amanda called him at 10:16. Service was complete.
Roger was standing inside a half-finished medical office building in Hilliard, wearing a hard hat and looking at a fire-rated wall assembly. He glanced through an open doorway at workers carrying drywall.
"All right."
"That's all you have to say?"
"What else should I say?"
Amanda gave a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "Nothing. Keep doing what you're doing."
Roger put his phone away. Then he returned to the wall.
At 10:41, Kimberly called. Roger let it ring. At 10:44, she called again.
At 10:51, a text appeared.
"You filed for divorce without even sitting down with me."
Roger read it once. He did not answer. Another followed.
"Eleven years and this is how you handle it."
Roger slipped the phone into his pocket. The irony did not make him smile. By lunchtime, there were seven messages.
By three, Kimberly had stopped apologizing.