PART4: For Months, My Husband’s Girlfriend Tipped Me $20 While Telling Me His Secrets—Then She Revealed What He Planned to Put in My Name

PART4

Dale’s expression hardened.

“You don’t understand business.”

She stared at him.

“You told me that account was ours.”

“It is.”

“You said it had four hundred thousand dollars.”

“It fluctuates.”

“So does your story.”

Dale’s face turned red.

I had never seen him look so frightened.

Not even when the roof collapsed on one of his biggest job sites eight years earlier.

He had always been the man who knew what to do.

The man who had an answer.

The man who told me not to worry.

Now he had nothing.

Except lies.

And he had run out of places to put them.

From behind the curtain came a cough.

Patrice stepped into view.

Dale looked at her.

Then at me.

“Who is that?”

I smiled.

“My attorney.”

His face went completely pale.

Patrice held up her phone.

“Hello, Mr. Harris.”

Dale stared.

“You recorded me?”

“I recorded nothing that wasn’t said in a public-facing business conversation,” she replied calmly. “But I suggest you stop talking until you’ve spoken with your own counsel.”

Dale looked at me.

“You planned this.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

I pushed the folder toward him.

“You planned this.”

He didn’t touch it.

Patrice walked over.

“Carol, don’t give him the original.”

I immediately pulled it back.

Dale’s eyes narrowed.

“Carol, we’re married.”

I looked at him.

“That sentence used to mean something.”

He flinched.

Ashley was crying now.

Not loudly.

Just tears rolling down her cheeks while she stared at the man she’d believed she was going to marry.

“Did you ever love me?” she whispered.

Dale looked at her.

“Ashley…”

“Don’t.”

She wiped her face.

“Just answer me.”

He said nothing.

She nodded slowly.

“That answers it.”

Then she looked at me.

“I am so sorry.”

I believed her.

Because for the first time since she had entered my salon months earlier, she wasn’t trying to win anything.

She was just discovering she’d been lied to too.

I picked up my appointment book.

The little black book I’d kept hidden beneath towels for months.

I opened it.

“Would you like to know something, Ashley?”

She nodded.

I turned the book around.

Every Thursday.

Every visit.

Every statement.

Every dollar amount.

The condo.

The boat.

The account.

The ring.

The supposed divorce.

The supposed separation.

The debt.

Her face changed as she read.

“You wrote all this down?”

“Every word.”

She looked at Dale.

“You told me she never paid attention.”

I closed the book.

“She paid attention.”

Patrice took the folder.

“Carol, we’re done here.”

Dale finally reached for my arm.

I stepped away.

“Don’t touch me.”

His hand fell.

“Carol, please.”

It was the first time I’d heard him say please in years.

And strangely, it didn’t hurt.

It made me tired.

Twenty-six years of marriage suddenly felt like a house after a fire.

You could still see the walls.

You could still recognize the rooms.

But everything inside had changed.

Dale lowered his voice.

“We can fix this.”

I looked at him.

“No.”

“Carol—”

“You’ve been fixing it for years.”

He stared at me.

“You’ve been moving money. Changing documents. Lying about debt. Signing my name.”

CONTINUE READING PART5…