She'd be walking into mine. Saturday evening, 5 days after Julia drove away, I heard her car pull into the driveway. I was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of me. Beside it sat a thick folder containing the divorce papers, bank records, and Liam's completed investigative report. I'd spent the afternoon reviewing everything with Patricia.
The divorce filing had been submitted, and she had confirmed that the process was officially underway. I wasn't planning to tell Julia about every legal step I'd taken. I wanted her to understand that her decisions had consequences and that I wasn't going to negotiate the truth. The front door opened. Julia walked in carrying her suitcase.
She wore a light jacket and looked tired, but not particularly worried. She set the suitcase beside the stairs, took one look at me, and sighed. "You're still up. I was waiting for you." She glanced at the clock.
"Well, I'm home now. Where have you been for 5 days?" Her expression hardened immediately. "Jeremy, I really don't want to do this tonight. Then answer the question.
Where were you?" She dropped her keys onto the counter. "I told you I had work. You told me you were attending a conference in San Francisco. Your office couldn't confirm you were there, and the hotel you gave me had no record of you checking in.
For the first time, she looked genuinely uncomfortable. Why were you calling my office? Because my wife disappeared without a word. I didn't disappear. I needed some time away.
5 days without one phone call. She crossed her arms. I was dealing with things. I didn't want to come home and have another argument. What things, Julia?
And why were you staying in a hotel with Colin Price? Her arms fell to her sides. For several seconds, she said nothing. Then her face changed. The discomfort turned into anger, as if she had decided that attacking me was better than answering my questions.
You had me followed? I asked you a question. That's unbelievable. You actually hired someone to spy on me. I hired a professional to establish facts.
You can be angry about that later. Right now, tell me why you lied about your trip. She stared at me, then shook her head. I don't owe you explanations. There it was.
After 24 years of marriage, 5 days of silence, and months of unexplained financial transfers, that was the answer she chose. I nodded once. Fine. She seemed thrown by my response. Fine.