No, I didn't tell anyone. It was just it was my safety net in case you in case I what? Left you? Wasn't that supposed to be my line? You're the one who had the affair, who stole money, who was planning an exit.
She looked at me with something like desperation. What if I give everything back? What if I agree to your terms and we would try again? We go to counseling. We work through this.
We know. James, please. No. Rachel, there's no coming back from this. Not the affair, not the money, not the lies.
You killed our march. You don't get to resurrect it just because the consequences are scarier than you expected. She sat there crying and I felt nothing. No sympathy, no regret, not even satisfaction. Just emptiness, just the hollow realization that I was looking at a stranger wearing my wife's face.
You have until tomorrow at 5:00 p.m. To accept the settlement terms, I said. After that, we file criminal complaints and let the courts handle everything. Your choice. I walked to the door, opened it, waited for her to leave.
She gathered her purse with shaking hands, walked past me without looking up. James. She paused on the threshold. When did you stop loving me? I thought about the question, about the moment I'd seen that photo from the Bahamas, about reading the text.
About discovering the birth control deception, about finding the hidden accounts. Honestly, I think you stopped being lovable long before I stopped loving you. I just took a while to notice. She flinched like I'd struck her, then walked to her car. I watched her drive away one more time, probably the last time, and I felt the final threat of connection between us snap.
Inside, my phone was ringing. Sandra, her lawyer, just called. They wanted to negotiate. Tell them my terms are non-negotiable. Full return of assets 7,30 split or we go criminal.
James, they're asking for 48 hours to review. They have 24. This isn't a negotiation, Sandra. This is consequences. Understood.
I'll let them know. I hung up and walked through my house. My house now, not ours. Looked at the furniture we bought together, the photos we'd taken, the life we built. All of it feeling like a museum now.