Chapter 2
I stared at Evelyn.
For a moment, I forgot about the woman standing beside my husband.
I forgot about Michael's hand on her waist.
I forgot about hearing him laugh and say I believed everything he told me.
All I could hear was Evelyn's question.
Whose name is actually on this house?
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Michael immediately stepped between us.
“Nothing.”
Evelyn's eyes hardened.
“It means exactly what it sounds like.”
“Mom, don't.”
Michael's voice was different now.
Not angry.
Afraid.
The woman beside him looked from Michael to Evelyn.
Then she slowly smiled.
“Oh.”
Evelyn turned toward her.
“What are you smiling about?”
The woman lifted one shoulder.
“Nothing.”
“You need to leave.”
Michael finally spoke.
“Vanessa, go.”
So now I had her name.
Vanessa.
She stared at him.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You told me—”
“Go.”
She looked at me.
There was no shame in her face.
That hurt almost as much as what Michael had done.
She picked up her purse from the couch.
Then she walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she stopped beside me.
“You should really ask him how long.”
My chest tightened.
Michael snapped.
“Vanessa.”
She smiled.
Then walked out.
The front door closed.
Silence filled the house.
I looked at Michael.
“How long?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Sarah, I can explain.”
“That isn't a number.”
“Can we sit down?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“How long?”
He looked at his mother.
That made me furious.
“Stop looking at her.”
Michael looked back at me.
“How long have you been sleeping with Vanessa?”
He swallowed.
“Six months.”
My body went cold.
Six months.
Christmas.
My birthday.
Our anniversary.
The weekend he told me he had to attend a conference in Milwaukee.
Six months of coming home to me after being with her.
“Six months?”
“It wasn't every day.”
I stared at him.
He immediately realized how terrible that sounded.
“That's not what I meant.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Oh, Michael.”
I started laughing.
I couldn't help it.
The sound came out broken.
“You're explaining frequency?”
“Sarah.”
“You think the problem is that it wasn't every day?”
“No.”
“Then what is the problem?”
He said nothing.
I answered for him.
“The problem is that you're a liar.”
He stepped toward me.
“I made a mistake.”
“Six months isn't a mistake.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“A mistake is forgetting our anniversary.”
His face changed.
“A mistake is sending a text to the wrong person.”
I pointed toward the door.
“Bringing another woman into our home is a decision.”
“Sarah, please.”
“You put your hand on her waist in my living room.”
“I know.”
“You laughed at me.”
His eyes dropped.
“You told her I believe everything you say.”
“I was being stupid.”
“You were being honest.”
He looked up.
“No.”
“Yes.”
My voice shook.
“Because I did believe you.”
That finally shut him up.
I turned toward Evelyn.
“What did you mean about the house?”
Michael stepped forward again.
“Mom was upset.”
“I asked her.”
Evelyn looked torn.
For the first time since she walked into the room, she seemed uncertain.
“Sarah.”
“What?”
“I should have told you sooner.”
My heart started pounding.
“Told me what?”
She glanced toward Michael.
He shook his head.
“Don't.”
Evelyn ignored him.
“The house belonged to my parents.”
I frowned.
“I know that.”
Michael had told me his grandparents once owned the property.
He said Evelyn inherited it.
Then Michael bought it from her years before we married.
At least, that was the story I knew.
Evelyn continued.
“When Michael told you he bought the house from me, that wasn't completely true.”
I looked at him.
“What wasn't true?”
Michael's face had gone gray.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
He said nothing.
Evelyn continued.
“I never transferred ownership to Michael.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“The deed is still in my name.”
I stared at her.
Then at Michael.
“That can't be true.”
“It is.”
“We've been paying the mortgage.”
“There is no mortgage.”
That sentence hit me harder than anything.
“What?”
Michael muttered, “Mom.”
“No,” Evelyn said.
“You have lied enough.”
I looked around the room.
The kitchen we renovated.
The floors I paid to refinish.
The new roof we put on two years ago.
The property taxes I had watched leave our joint checking account.
“What do you mean there is no mortgage?”
Evelyn took a slow breath.
“My parents paid the house off decades ago.”
I turned toward Michael.
“We send $2,400 every month.”
He wouldn't look at me.
My skin prickled.
“To who?”
Nothing.
“Michael.”
He looked at the floor.
“An account.”
“What account?”
“Sarah—”
“What account?”
“My investment account.”
The room disappeared around me.
For six years, since the second year of our marriage, I had believed we were paying a mortgage.
Two thousand four hundred dollars every month.
Twenty-eight thousand eight hundred dollars a year.
More than one hundred seventy thousand dollars.
I couldn't breathe.
“You've been taking our mortgage payments?”
“I invested them.”
“You stole from me.”
“I didn't steal.”
Evelyn snapped.
“You let your wife believe she was paying a bank.”
Michael turned toward her.
“I was building our future.”
“Don't call it our future,” I said.
He looked at me.
“I planned to surprise you.”
“With what?”
“A portfolio.”
I laughed.
“After six years?”
“It grew.”
“How much?”
He hesitated.
I felt sick.
“How much money is in the account?”
“About three hundred eighty thousand.”
Evelyn stared at him.
Even she looked shocked.
“Michael.”
“It did well.”
I grabbed the back of a chair.
Part of me wanted to scream.
Part of me wanted to sit down and never move.
“You've been hiding almost four hundred thousand dollars from me?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“Eventually.”
I closed my eyes.
Eventually.
The favorite word of liars.
I opened them again.
“Is my name on the account?”
His silence answered me.
“No.”
“It's in mine.”
I felt something inside me break.
“You used my money.”
“It was our money.”
“Then why isn't my name on it?”
He didn't answer.
I turned toward Evelyn.
“You knew?”
Her face fell.
“I knew he was putting money into an investment account.”
“You knew I thought we had a mortgage?”
“No.”
I studied her.
“Tell me the truth.”
“I knew you called it the mortgage.”
My chest tightened.
“So you knew.”
“Sarah, I thought Michael had explained the arrangement.”
“What arrangement?”
She looked ashamed.
“I allowed him to live here without rent because I wanted him to save for his future.”
“Our future?”
“I assumed so.”
“When did this start?”
“Before he met you.”
I looked at Michael.
He had been collecting fake mortgage payments even before we married.
Suddenly another thought hit me.
“How much did you tell me the house cost?”
He went still.
“Michael.”
“Four hundred eighty thousand.”
I remembered the exact number.
He told me he still owed nearly three hundred thousand when we married.
That was why I agreed to contribute.
I had been so proud.
Two people building a life together.
Except one of us had been building something.
The other had been funding a secret account.
“How much did you put into it before we got married?”
He swallowed.
“About seventy thousand.”
“And after?”
“Most of the rest.”
“From us?”
“Yes.”
“From me?”
“From our joint account.”
“Which included my salary.”
“Yes.”
I put one hand over my mouth.
Evelyn took a step toward me.
“Sarah.”
I backed away.
“Don't.”
She stopped.
“I need air.”
Michael moved toward me.
“Don't leave.”
I looked at him.
The audacity almost stunned me.
“You brought your mistress here.”
“I know.”
“You lied about our home.”
“I know.”
“You've been hiding our money.”
“I know.”
“And now you're telling me not to leave?”
His eyes filled.
“I'm scared.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Good.”
I grabbed my purse.
Michael moved in front of the door.
“We need to talk.”
“Move.”
“Sarah.”
“Move.”
He didn't.
Evelyn's voice cut through the room.
“Michael.”
He looked at her.
“Get out of her way.”
“Mom, stay out of this.”
“No.”
Her expression turned cold.
“You lied to her under my roof.”
His jaw tightened.
“This isn't your roof.”
Evelyn laughed once.
“Yes, Michael.”
“It is.”
He looked at me.
Then back at her.
“What are you going to do?”
“Exactly what I said.”
He stared at her.
“You wouldn't.”
“Try me.”
“Mom.”
“If Sarah wants you gone, you leave.”
His face hardened.
“You're choosing her over your own son?”
Evelyn's expression changed.
Pain moved across it.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You made me choose between protecting you from consequences and doing what is right.”
Her voice cracked.
“You made that choice for me.”
Michael stared at her.
Then he laughed bitterly.
“You always liked Sarah more.”
“That is not true.”
“Yes, it is.”
He pointed toward me.
“She can do no wrong.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“I just found you with another woman.”
“This isn't about that.”
“It is exactly about that.”
Michael looked furious now.
“You think you're perfect?”
“No.”
“You work late.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“You're always tired.”
Evelyn looked horrified.
“Michael, stop.”
“You barely want to go anywhere anymore.”
My mouth fell open.
“I'm a nurse.”
“I know.”
“I work twelve-hour shifts.”
“Exactly.”
“You're blaming my job for your affair?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You're saying everything except that.”
He ran a hand through his hair.
“I felt invisible.”
My eyes burned.
“So you found Vanessa.”
He said nothing.
“How did you meet her?”
“At the gym.”
“When?”
“Last summer.”
“And when did it become physical?”
“January.”
“Did she know you were married?”
“Yes.”
The honesty was almost worse.
“Did she know me?”
“No.”
“Did she know this was my home?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Then I remembered her words.
Your wife really has no idea?
I opened my eyes again.
“What doesn't she think I know?”
Michael froze.
“What?”
“When I walked in, Vanessa asked if I really had no idea.”
“About us.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“She said it like there was more.”
“There isn't.”
Evelyn looked at him sharply.
I noticed.
“So there is.”
“No.”
“Evelyn?”
She looked at me.
Michael immediately said, “Mom.”
I turned toward her.
“What else?”
She hesitated.
That hesitation destroyed whatever trust remained.
“What else have you both kept from me?”
Evelyn whispered, “I found something last month.”
Michael's face went completely white.
“Mom.”
“What?”
I asked.
She looked directly at me.
“Bank statements.”
“What bank statements?”
“Michael has been withdrawing money from the investment account.”
My stomach dropped.
“How much?”
Evelyn glanced toward her son.
Then answered.
“Almost ninety thousand dollars.”
I stared at Michael.
“Where did it go?”
He didn't answer.
“Michael.”
He swallowed.
“I helped someone.”
“Who?”
Silence.
My heart started pounding.
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Evelyn spoke quietly.
“His father.”
Everything inside me stopped.
Michael's father had been dead for eleven years.
I stared at Evelyn.
“What did you just say?”
Michael closed his eyes.
May you like
Evelyn's voice trembled.
“Sarah, my husband isn't dead.”
