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The Lawyer’s Husband

Page 87

by Robin James

She tapped her straw against the side of her glass. “That’s the strangest part of all this to me.”

“That’s what’s strange? Elena, you know me. I thought Roy and Mark did too. I haven’t done any of the things this woman has accused me of.”

“Except you did,” she said. “You went to her house to confront her. That was a bad idea. I understand the urge. But you walked into this mess.”

I couldn’t argue with her. That was the crux of it.

“And now he’s kicked you out of the house?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly. I needed to get away and clear my head.”

“It’s his house. You won’t have a claim to it if he files. Did you sign a prenup?”

I wanted to throw up. I had along with that blasted NDA. I suppose I hadn’t technically violated it. Not yet.

“I don’t care about his money.”

“That’s shortsighted. The trouble is, you’ve only been married for two years. But I don’t imagine Lock would want a long, drawn-out, scandalous process. Especially if he’s cheating on you.”

“Elena, I’m sorry. I appreciate your wisdom. I do. But I can’t even think about strategizing a divorce settlement. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m roadkill.”

“Understood. I’ll back off. It’s just… he is clearly thinking about this. He’s cut off access to your credit cards. Do you have any joint accounts with him?”

“What?”

“Mina, think.”

“No,” I said. “Our banking is separate. I have my salary from the county that goes into the checking account I’ve had since my parents died. He put my name on his credit cards. I cancelled whatever ones I had in my own name. Obviously, that was a mistake.”

“Well, I suppose the immediate issue is you need a place to stay. I can help with that. I have a rental at Breaker’s Cove. I’ve got a long-term booking coming in at the end of the month. But for the next ten days, it’s empty.”

She grabbed a napkin and wrote down an address and a number.

“That’s the code to the lockbox.”

“Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”

She threw two twenties on the table. “Just take care of yourself. Get a good night’s sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

She rose. “I drove,” I said. “I have to take you back.” A new horror occurred to me. My rental car. If my credit cards were cut off, I had no idea how long I’d have wheels.

She waved me off. “I’ve got a hair appointment across the street. I got a ride to work today. My car’s on the fritz. I’ll Uber home. I was planning to anyway.”

When I stood up, I hugged her. I don’t know if Elena believed me, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. She gave me the benefit of the doubt. I wished Mark and Roy could do the same.

Women believe women, I thought. I don’t know how many times I’d had that conversation with domestic violence victims.

Women believe women. Only Corrine Egan had been lying all along.

Elena’s rental was gorgeous. A two-bedroom, one bath right on the shoreline at Breaker’s Cove. She was probably charging several hundred a night for it. It had a washer and dryer, so at least I wouldn’t need a laundromat.

She had white wine stocked in the fridge, and I poured myself a glass. I lost track of time as I relaxed in front of the bay window. There were kids playing on the beach, their mothers keeping watchful eyes.

That’s what finally made me cry. Two weeks ago, Lock and I were trying to start our family. Now…

My phone buzzed and my heart jumped. It was Lock’s text tone. I dove for the phone on the coffee table in front of me. With shaking hands, I fumbled and nearly dropped my phone on the tile floor.

I opened the message.