My Husband’s Mistress Received a Gift With My Name on It
Chapter 7
THEME: FONT SIZE: 18px"You opened debt in my name."
"We are married."
"Marriage isn't a power of attorney."
"Everything I did was for us."
That sentence was so familiar it almost worked.
Almost.
I looked at the statement showing Sloane's rent.
"Was the lingerie for us?"
Silence.
"The hotel rooms?"
"Vivian—"
"The diamonds she opened in front of your family?"
"That was wrong."
"You don't get to choose which part was wrong."
He lowered his voice.
"You're angry. I understand that."
"No, you don't."
"You've been unhappy for a long time too."
There it was.
Shared responsibility.
The soft beginning of revision.
In Preston's version of reality, no betrayal belonged entirely to him.
"Where did the money go?"
"What money?"
"The transfers to P.W. Strategic Holdings."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
I closed my eyes.
He hadn't expected me to find the company so quickly.
"That's a business vehicle."
"For what?"
"Investments."
"Whose investments?"
"Ours."
"I've never heard of it."
"You didn't want to deal with that side of things."
"I asked you to show me our finances in June."
"You said you trusted me."
"I did."
That shut him up.
For the first time since the Christmas party, my voice shook.
"I trusted you, Preston."
I hated that he heard it.
I hated giving him even that much evidence of what he'd done.
His tone softened immediately.
"Viv."
No.
I knew that voice.
That was the voice he used when he wanted to come closer.
The voice from hospital hallways and funerals.
The voice from the night we lost the baby.
For one dangerous second, memory and reality collided.
I saw the man who had held me while I cried into his shirt.
Then I saw him behind the sofa while Sloane opened my gift.
"Don't call me that."
"We can fix this."
"Where did the money go?"
"I made investments that didn't perform the way I expected."
"How much did you lose?"
He didn't answer.
"How much?"
"A lot."
My knees weakened.
I sat down.
"How much is a lot?"
"We shouldn't do this over the phone."
"Then give me a number and maybe I'll decide whether I ever want to see you again."
He swore quietly.
Then he said it.
"Just over six hundred thousand."
I stopped hearing the room.
Six hundred thousand.
"But the debt in my name is less than four."
"I used other capital."
"What other capital?"
"Vivian—"
"What other capital?"
"Our joint savings."
I closed my eyes.
There had been just over three hundred thousand dollars in liquid savings the last time I had checked closely.
Most of it was supposed to cover renovations, taxes, and the possibility of us buying a second property someday.
"How much is left?"
He said nothing.
"Preston."
"About forty."
Forty thousand.
My stomach twisted.
"You lost almost all of it."
"The position collapsed."
"What position?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
"I can earn it back."
There was something desperate in his voice now.
Not regret.
Belief.
The gambler's most dangerous prayer.
I can earn it back.
Suddenly I understood the sequence.
Secret company.
Investment losses.
Debt in my name.
More debt to cover earlier losses.
Then Sloane.
A woman arriving at exactly the moment Preston needed to feel like a man who was still winning.
"You kept borrowing."
"I needed time."
"You used my identity to buy time."
"I was protecting you."
I stood so quickly the chair hit the wall.
"Protecting me?"
"I didn't want you panicking."
"You stole my name."
"Stop saying stole."
"You forged my signature."
"We're husband and wife."
"Stop saying that like it makes me your property."
He went quiet.
I was shaking now.
Not with sadness.
With rage.
"I could have fixed some of it," he said.
"Some?"
"If you hadn't frozen everything."
That sentence told me more about my marriage than any confession could have.
He wasn't sorry he had done it.
He was angry I had stopped him.
"What were you planning after Christmas?" I asked.
"What?"
"Sloane said you were going to tell me about her after the holidays."
He said nothing.
"Were you leaving?"
"Vivian."
"Were you planning to leave me?"
A long breath.
"Yes."
The word entered me gently.
That surprised me.
I expected devastation.
Instead I felt the last uncertain piece click into place.
Of course.
"Did you plan to tell me about the debt?"
"I was trying to stabilize things first."
"No."
"Vivian—"
"No. You were going to leave me, and I was going to discover accounts in my name after you were gone."
"That's not what I intended."
"Then what did you intend?"
He couldn't answer.
I pictured the Christmas party again.
The family watching.
Sloane opening my gift.
May you like
Preston waiting for me to scream.
Maybe he had wanted me to end the marriage for him.
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