Chapter 2 - Sienna Knew About the Eighteen Million
Julian tried to follow me off the stage.
My attorney stopped him.
Not dramatically.
Just one hand raised.
“Mr. Mercer, Evelyn has requested no private conversation tonight.”
Julian stared at me.
“You planned this?”
I kept walking.
Of course I had.
Cancer had taken enough from me without allowing betrayal to take my timing too.
In the private lounge behind the venue, my best friend Rebecca was waiting with a shawl and a glass of water.
“You okay?”
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
She had expected triumph.
The smile onstage had been real.
So was the shaking in my hands now.
Revenge looks cleaner from a distance.
Up close, it is still grief.
Rebecca helped me sit.
“You don’t have to go back out.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because this is still my party.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Then a message.
Evelyn, I didn’t know he was still lying to you. Please let me explain.
Sienna.
I stared.
Rebecca saw the name.
“Absolutely not.”
I ignored her and replied:
What exactly did he tell you about the money?
Three dots appeared immediately.
That he would receive $18 million tonight and leave you after your treatment was finished.
My stomach turned.
Not because the affair was new.
Because of the phrasing.
After your treatment was finished.
As if my chemotherapy had been a calendar obstacle.
I typed:
How long have you known about the transfer?
Her answer:
Since February.
February.
My third chemotherapy cycle.
The month Julian sat beside my infusion chair holding my hand.
The month he told me:
“When this is over, we’ll start over somewhere warm.”
Apparently, he had already been discussing a different “we.”
Another message arrived.
He said the money would fund the Charleston project and our new life.
Our.
Rebecca read over my shoulder.
“Charleston?”
I looked at her.
I had never heard of a Charleston project.
Julian had told me he was considering “a small investment opportunity” after my recovery.
Apparently it was larger.
I messaged Sienna:
Do not leave the venue.
Rebecca stared.
“Why would you want to talk to her?”
“Because Julian didn’t collapse over losing a wife.”
I looked toward the ballroom doors.
“He collapsed because something bigger than an affair just failed.”
Ten minutes later, my attorney entered.
“You need to see this.”
He handed me a copy of an email Julian had sent three weeks earlier.
To a Charleston waterfront developer.
Projected personal capital contribution: $18,000,000.
Funding date: anniversary distribution.
My jaw tightened.
May you like
Julian had already committed money he did not own.
And suddenly his tears on the floor made perfect sense.
Related Stories
