“Did Preston ever tell you why he was so determined to complete the transaction before the end of the quarter?”
I frowned.
“No.”
Charles hesitated.
“He said the timing was important because a major existing investor might reconsider its relationship with the firm.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which investor?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
I sat straighter.
For months, Preston had complained about demanding investors.
He occasionally mentioned that some clients were reluctant to increase their exposure.
But he had never told me that a major investor might withdraw.
“Did he suggest the expansion would replace that capital?”
“Something like that.”
I looked down.
For a moment, a different possibility occurred to me.
What if Preston wasn’t simply trying to enrich himself through the management entity?
What if the proposed expansion was intended to conceal a serious problem elsewhere in the firm?
I took a slow breath.
“Charles, would you be willing to share the presentation you received with the independent review team?”
“Of course.”
I thanked him.
Then I called Margaret.
She listened carefully.
When I finished, she said, “We should ensure the appropriate financial and compliance professionals examine the potential connection. But we shouldn’t assume a shortfall exists until the records support it.”
I agreed.
For the first time, I was grateful that someone kept reminding me to distinguish evidence from fear.
My marriage was falling apart.
I wanted answers.
But I didn’t want my anger to make me careless with accusations that could affect hundreds of people.
The next day, Preston returned home at noon.
I was sitting in the study when I heard his car pull into the driveway.
For a moment, I felt my stomach tighten.
We hadn’t spoken face-to-face since the reception.
I stood and walked into the hallway.
He entered carrying a briefcase and looking exhausted.
His expensive suit was wrinkled, and his eyes were red.
He stopped when he saw me.
“Evelyn.”
“Preston.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he looked toward the staircase.
“I need to collect some clothes.”
I nodded.
“That’s fine.”
He seemed surprised by my calmness.
I continued.
“We’ll also need to discuss living arrangements through counsel.”
His expression changed.
“So that’s it?”
I looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Eleven years of marriage, and you’re talking about lawyers?”
I felt a wave of disbelief.
For a moment, I remembered Cassandra standing beside him in her emerald gown.
The laughter.
The security guards.
And Preston telling me to leave his party.
I took a slow breath.
“You made your position about our marriage clear in front of two hundred people.”
He looked away.
“I was angry.”
I nodded.
“That doesn’t explain ordering security to remove me.”
He sighed.
“Cassandra thought you were trying to disrupt the event.”
I stared at him.
“Preston, she insulted me for not wearing diamonds.”
He looked down.
“She shouldn’t have done that.”
“And you should have stopped her.”
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then he whispered, “I know.”
I looked at him.
The admission was so unexpected that I almost didn’t believe I’d heard it.
But before I could answer, he continued.
“You could still help me fix the investor situation.”
My chest tightened.
There it was.
The apology had lasted only a few seconds before the business problem returned.
I took a breath.
“By doing what?”
“By confirming that the family investment company supports the expansion in principle.”
I stared at him.
“Does it?”
He looked frustrated.
“Evelyn, everyone knows the company needs to grow.”
“That’s different from approving a particular transaction.”
He sighed.
“Can you stop speaking like a lawyer for five minutes?”
I felt anger rise.
Then I remembered the years I’d spent reviewing contracts with him late at night.
The way he used to praise my attention to detail.
I looked at him.
“Preston, you once told me my caution was the reason you could take risks confidently.”
His expression changed.
I continued.
“Now you’re asking me to abandon that caution because it prevents you from doing something you haven’t properly explained.”
For a moment, he seemed uncertain.
Then his face hardened.
“Cassandra understands the opportunity.”
I nodded slowly.
“Then she can explain it to the independent reviewers.”
He stared.
“You’re jealous of her.”
I almost laughed.
“No. I’m concerned about financial arrangements involving a consultant with whom you’re having a personal relationship.”
His expression changed.
For several seconds, he didn’t answer.
Then he whispered, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I looked at him.
“Are you romantically involved with Cassandra?”
He looked away.
The silence was answer enough.
Still, I waited.
Finally, he nodded.
“Yes.”
My throat tightened.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
I’d suspected for months.
I’d seen the late-night messages, the unexplained travel, and the way he placed his hand on her back at the reception.
But hearing him admit it hurt differently.
I took a slow breath.
“How long?”
He hesitated.
“Almost a year.”
I closed my eyes.
A year.
For nearly a year, I’d been sitting beside him at dinners, discussing his future, and wondering why he seemed increasingly irritated by my presence.
I had been sharing a home with a man who was building another relationship.
I looked down.
“Do you want to remain married?”
Preston was silent.
Then he whispered, “I don’t know.”
For a moment, I felt tears rise.
But I didn’t beg.
I didn’t ask whether Cassandra was younger, more exciting, or better suited to his new image.
I simply nodded.
“Then we need to separate while we address the legal and financial issues.”
He looked frightened.
“Evelyn, don’t make any permanent decisions yet.”
I stared at him.
“Preston, you ordered security to remove me from a reception because you didn’t want me beside you.”
He lowered his head.
I continued.
“You’ve been involved with another woman for almost a year, and you still haven’t decided whether you want our marriage.”
My voice trembled.
“I think you’ve already made enough decisions without including me.”
