“Eveline,” he said, looking up from his notes, “we’re going to get ahead of this. And trust me, judges don’t like men who use their kid to hide an affair.” For the first time, I felt like I had backup.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
“Write down everything. Get copies of those bank statements. Keep those photos safe. And most important, act normal till we’re ready to file.”
Over the next two weeks, I turned into a detective in my own life. I gathered everything I could. I even found emails on our shared computer about “business dinners” that weren’t business at all.
The hardest part was pretending everything was fine. Making Garrett his morning coffee, asking about his day, and sleeping next to him while my heart raced with anger and hurt. Each fake smile felt like a mask.
“You seem tense lately,” he said one night at dinner, reaching for my hand.
I looked across the table at him, this man I’d loved for ten years, who was calmly eating spaghetti while planning to leave us.
“Just work stress,” I lied smooth. “The Henderson account is keeping me up.”
With my lawyer’s help, I filed for divorce, custody, and child support all at once. The papers were served to Garrett at his office on a Thursday morning.
I know because Mr. Peterson called me right after. The waiting was over.
“He seemed shocked,” the lawyer said. “I don’t think he expected you to find out so fast.”
That evening, Garrett came home early. His face was pale, and he carried the envelope like it was hot. He looked like a guy whose plan just fell apart.
“Eveline,” he started, putting the papers on the kitchen counter. “We need to talk.”
I was making Nora’s lunch for tomorrow, keeping my hands busy. “About what?”
“You know about what.” His voice was tight, defensive. “Look, I can explain—”
I turned to face him, and for the first time in weeks, I didn’t have to pretend.
“Explain what? How you’ve been taking money from our account? How you’ve been lying to our daughter’s school so you could take her on dates with your girlfriend?”
He stayed quiet for a minute, staring at me. Then he finally spoke.
“I haven’t been happy with you for a long time, Eveline. The spark between us is gone. Tessa and I… what we have is real. I was going to tell you eventually.”
“Eventually?” I laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “After you took our savings? After you told our five-year-old she’s getting a new mommy?”