Chapter 8 - The Thirty-Two Million Dollars
Charles ordered the guests who were not immediate family to leave.
Nobody argued.
Within fifteen minutes, the garden held only the Whitmores, my parents, Sabrina, Evelyn, and me.
The untouched cake remained beneath the canopy.
Pink balloons moved in the wind.
It looked absurd.
A celebration surrounding a funeral.
Charles sat across from Ryan.
“You understood the distribution clause.”
Ryan loosened his tie.
“Yes.”
“And you remained married to Claire in part because you wanted access after the child was born.”
“No.”
Sabrina stared at him.
“You told me exactly that.”
Ryan turned on her.
“Shut up.”
Charles slammed his cane against the stone.
“Do not speak to her.”
Ryan looked stunned.
Charles continued.
“You created this situation.”
Sabrina crossed her arms.
“He said divorcing Claire before the baby came would upset you.”
Charles’s face tightened.
“He was right.”
Everyone looked at him.
The old man turned toward me.
“I need to apologize.”
“You didn’t cheat on me.”
“No.”
“But I created an incentive system that rewarded appearances.”
Ryan shook his head.
“Grandpa, don’t make this something it isn’t.”
Charles looked at him.
“What is it?”
“I love my daughter.”
“She is not born yet.”
“I already love her.”
“And her mother?”
Ryan looked at me.
“I love Claire.”
I almost laughed.
“Then why was Sabrina in your bed last night?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Sabrina stared at him.
“You cannot be serious.”
Ryan ignored her.
“Claire, we can fix this.”
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“Three years.”
I shook my head.
“You had three years.”
He stepped closer.
“I panicked.”
“For two years?”
“I never meant for it to go this far.”
Sabrina’s face hardened.
“You asked me to look at condos.”
Ryan closed his eyes.
Margaret whispered, “Condos?”
I remembered the photograph.
The lakefront key.
Our second chance.
I opened my tablet.
“Lake Shore Drive?”
Sabrina looked at me.
“How do you know?”
Ryan’s head snapped around.
I held up the screen.
The property record was open.
The condo had been purchased through an LLC.
The company name meant nothing to me.
Evelyn leaned closer.
Then her expression changed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“This LLC received money from an account you share with Ryan.”
My stomach dropped.
“How much?”
She scrolled.
“Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars.”
The affair had not only taken my trust.
May you like
Ryan had used marital money to build a future with Sabrina.
And the house he planned to move into after our daughter was born had partly been paid for by me.
