Chapter 3 - THE STOLEN TIME “Where did you get that?” Miles stepped forward, his face draining of color. He reached for the silver watch in my hand, but I stepped back, snapping the clasp shut.
“You told me the contractors must have stolen it,” I said, the betrayal layering so thick I could barely breathe. “You helped me file the police report, Miles. You sat with me on the couch while I cried because it was the last thing I had of my grandfather.”
Claire’s eyes darted toward the door. “Miles gave it to me as a token. He said it was sitting in a drawer, doing nothing. I appreciate vintage horology.”
“Horology?” Daniel spat the word like poison. He looked at his wife as if he were seeing a stranger wearing her skin. “You’re a monster, Claire. You are a cold, calculated monster.”
“Don’t speak to her like that,” Miles snapped, his protective instinct flaring up. It was the same tone he used to use when someone criticized me. Hearing it directed at another woman—at the woman who was trying to destroy me—made my stomach violently pitch.
“I’ll speak to her however I damn well please,” Daniel said. He looked at me, his eyes dark with a shared, terrible grief. “Janet, keep the watch. Put it in your purse right now.”
I slipped the watch into my pocket.
“Give it back, Janet,” Miles warned, his voice lowering into a dangerous register. “It’s not yours anymore.”
“It was inherited property, Dad,” David stepped between me and his father. “It belongs to Mom. You had no right to give it away, and you have no right to demand it back.”
Miles looked at our son, his jaw tight. “You don’t understand how business works, David. Your mother is sick. I had to secure the company.”
“She’s not sick!” Sarah yelled, holding up the manila folder containing Claire’s fraudulent assessment. “She’s the one who runs the logistics! You just play golf with the clients! You forged a medical condition to steal her shares!”
“That folder is confidential medical property,” Claire said coldly, reaching out. “Give it back to me, Sarah, or I will call the police and have you arrested for theft.”
“Call them,” I said, stepping forward. I was done crying. Thirty-six years of putting this man first evaporated in the span of an hour. “Let’s show the police the assessment you wrote for the man you’re sleeping with. Let’s show them the stolen watch. Let’s see what the medical licensing board thinks of your Saturday appointments.”
Claire’s confident facade cracked. Her hand dropped to her side. She looked at Miles, expecting him to fight for her, but Miles was staring at the manila folder in Sarah’s hands.
“Let them have it, Claire,” Miles muttered. “My lawyer already filed the original with the court yesterday.”
The air rushed out of the room.
“Filed it?” I whispered. “What do you mean, filed it?”
“I filed for divorce, Janet. And I filed an emergency injunction to freeze your access to the company accounts. By tomorrow morning, you won’t be able to withdraw a single cent. You need to accept reality. I’m moving on, and the business stays with me.”
He turned around and walked out of the private dining room. Claire gave Daniel one last, emotionless look before hurrying out after him.
I stood frozen, the reality of my husband’s cruelty crashing over me. He hadn’t just cheated on me. He had orchestrated my complete financial and mental ruin, piece by piece, while smiling at me over the dinner table.
“Mom,” Sarah said softly, touching my arm. “We’ll get a lawyer. We’ll fight this.”
“He froze the accounts,” I said numbly. “How am I supposed to hire a lawyer if I can’t pay a retainer?”
Daniel cleared his throat. He was still standing by the table, looking at the wreckage of Claire’s purse. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek, black business card. He handed it to me.
“My sister is one of the most ruthless divorce attorneys in the state,” Daniel said. “She hates Claire as much as I do. Call her tomorrow. Tell her I sent you. She’ll take the case on contingency.”
I looked at the card, then up at Daniel. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because my wife just tried to destroy your life,” Daniel said, his voice thick with pain. “And because of what I found in her car yesterday.”
He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to me.
It was a receipt from a high-end jewelry store, dated seven years ago.
“Seven years?” I whispered, reading the date. Miles had said this affair started eighteen months ago.
“Look at the item,” Daniel instructed.
I read the line item. One diamond tennis bracelet. $14,000.
May you like
“Miles bought that for me for our 29th anniversary,” I said, confused.
“No, Janet,” Daniel said softly. “He bought two. One for you. And one for Claire. They haven’t been sleeping together for eighteen months. They’ve been sleeping together for seven years.”
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