Chapter 17
Raymond was arrested two days later.
The charges were connected to financial fraud, identity-related offenses, and misuse of client funds.
Rebecca warned me not to obsess over details that could change as prosecutors reviewed evidence.
So I didn’t.
I focused on what I could control.
Emma.
My job.
The divorce.
Locks.
Passwords.
Therapy.
For the first time in my life, I started seeing a counselor.
Her name was Dr. Patel.
During our second session, she asked me why I had stayed silent at Diane’s dinners for so long.
“I was trying to keep peace.”
“Whose peace?”
I stared at her.
That question followed me home.
Whose peace?
Not mine.
Not Emma’s.
Diane’s.
Michael’s.
The family’s.
I had been paying for everyone else’s comfort with my own discomfort.
No more.
Michael requested a meeting through our attorneys.
Not reconciliation.
A settlement discussion.
Rebecca sat beside me.
Michael looked ten years older.
His attorney placed documents on the table.
Michael agreed to return every dollar he could recover from Diane.
He agreed not to claim any interest in my lake property.
He agreed that the forged refinance should be treated as unauthorized by me.
He agreed to leave the house while the divorce was pending.
Then he asked to speak.
Rebecca looked at me.
I nodded.
Michael folded his hands.
“I’m not going to ask you to take me back.”
“Good.”
He swallowed.
“I’ve been seeing someone.”
My eyebrows rose.
He quickly added, “A therapist.”
I almost smiled.
He deserved that confusion.
“I told Noah the truth about why I stayed away.”
“What truth?”
“That I was ashamed.”
I waited.
“And selfish.”
Better.
“I convinced myself Claire would make everything difficult, so I took the easiest route.”
“For you.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“I did the same thing with you.”
I said nothing.
“Whenever I was afraid of conflict, I lied.”
“That’s not conflict avoidance. That’s deception.”
“I know.”
He nodded.
“I’m learning the difference.”
He looked at me.
“I’m going to be responsible for Lauren’s child.”
My stomach tightened.
“I hope so.”
“I don’t know what that looks like.”
“That isn’t my problem.”
“I know.”
For once, he did not argue.
Then he slid an envelope across the table.
I didn’t touch it.
“What is that?”
“Money.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
“From where?”
“I sold my motorcycle and emptied my separate investment account.”
I looked at Rebecca.
She had already verified it.
“It goes toward what you took from savings.”
“Yes.”
“That still leaves twenty-eight thousand.”
“I’ll repay it.”
“You’ll repay all of it.”
“Yes.”
His voice shook.
“I know saying sorry doesn’t fix anything.”
“It doesn’t.”
“But I am.”
I believed him.
That did not mean I trusted him.
Those were different things.
When the meeting ended, Michael asked one more question.
“Does Emma hate me?”
My chest tightened.
“She misses who she thought you were.”
He closed his eyes.
“That’s worse.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“If you want to do one decent thing for her, stop making her responsible for your feelings.”
“I will.”
I left.
Outside, Rebecca looked at me.
“How are you?”
“Sad.”
“About him?”
“About what we could have been if he had told the truth before destroying it.”
She nodded.
That evening, I received a call from an unknown number.
It was Diane.
She was calling from Kevin’s phone because I had blocked hers.
“I need five minutes.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
She started crying.
I nearly hung up.
Then she said, “Raymond stole from me.”
“I heard.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you’d be happy.”
I frowned.
“Why would I be happy?”
“Because you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
She became quiet.
“I don’t trust you.”
“That’s fair.”
“And I don’t want you near Emma.”
Her breath caught.
“She’s my granddaughter.”
“She isn’t legally your granddaughter.”
The words were harsh but true.
Michael had never adopted Emma.
Diane had used that fact against me more than once.
Now it established a boundary.
“I love her.”
“You insulted her mother in front of her and hit me.”
“I lost control.”
“You tried to hit me twice.”
“I know.”
She cried.
“I’m sorry.”
I waited.
No but.
Interesting.
“I was terrified,” she whispered.
“Of losing your house?”
“Of losing everything.”
“You nearly took everything from me.”
“I know.”
“Why did you hate me so much?”
She was silent for a long time.
Then she gave me an answer I never expected.
“Because Richard respected you.”
I stared at the wall.
“What?”
“He said you reminded him of Claire.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
“It was.”
Her voice cracked.
“He said Michael needed a wife who would challenge him. He told me you were good for him.”
“And that made you hate me?”
“It made me feel replaced.”
I almost laughed.
“By your daughter-in-law?”
“By women who saw things I didn’t want to see.”
There it was.
Not jealousy of affection.
Jealousy of truth.
Claire had challenged the family’s money.
I had challenged Diane’s control.
She hated mirrors.
“I’m not forgiving you,” I said.
“I know.”
“You don’t contact Emma.”
She cried harder.
“I know.”
“And if you ever come to my house without permission again, I call police.”
“I understand.”
I ended the call.
My hands trembled.
But I did not feel guilty.
Later, Emma found me making dinner.
“Can we have pancakes instead?”
“It’s six o’clock.”
“So?”
I smiled.
“Excellent argument.”
We made pancakes.
She spilled flour.
I burned the first batch.
We laughed.
Then my phone buzzed.
Lauren.
I considered ignoring it.
Instead I read the message.
I’M MOVING OUT OF THE OAK BROOK APARTMENT.
I didn’t respond.
Another message came.
I’M ALSO TURNING OVER EVERYTHING I HAVE TO THE PROSECUTOR.
Then:
I KNOW THAT DOESN’T MAKE US SISTERS AGAIN.
I stared at those words.
For once, Lauren was not asking me to comfort her.
I set the phone down.
Emma held up a pancake shaped vaguely like a heart.
“Look.”
May you like
I smiled.
“That one’s perfect.”
