Chapter 4 - THE PAPERS IN THE SAFE
Dominic shook his head immediately.
“There are no divorce papers.”
Michael stared at him.
“Then Chloe lied to me.”
“She did.”
Chloe looked between them.
“Michael, please.”
He ignored her.
Dominic turned toward me.
“I swear to you.”
I studied his face.
Three years of marriage taught you small things about a person.
The movement of his eyes when he was nervous.
The way he rubbed his thumb against his wedding ring when he wanted to avoid a conversation.
The way his shoulders stiffened when he lied.
His shoulders were stiff.
“Dominic.”
He swallowed.
“What?”
“Is there anything in our house I need to know about?”
“No.”
Too fast.
My father noticed too.
Arthur looked toward one of the men beside the door.
“Daniel.”
The man stepped forward.
“Yes, sir.”
“Have the car brought around.”
Dominic frowned.
“Where are you taking her?”
I answered.
“Home.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
Then I finished.
“To get my things.”
The relief vanished.
“Vivienne, don’t do this tonight.”
“Tonight is exactly when I’m doing it.”
Eleanor scoffed.
“How dramatic.”
I turned toward her.
“You tore my dress open in public.”
She opened her mouth.
I held up one hand.
“You don’t get to define dramatic anymore.”
Several guests looked away to hide smiles.
My father offered me his arm.
I accepted.
Dominic followed us toward the exit.
“Vivienne.”
I stopped.
He stood six feet away.
“Please.”
His voice broke slightly.
“I love you.”
I looked at the man I had married.
And I realized love had become a word he used whenever accountability reached the door.
“Then you should have acted like it.”
I walked out.
Forty minutes later, my father’s car entered the gated neighborhood where Dominic and I lived.
The house looked exactly as I had left it.
Porch lights glowing.
Nursery curtains upstairs.
A delivery box beside the front door.
Normal.
That somehow hurt more.
My father stayed downstairs while I went to the bedroom.
I opened a suitcase.
Maternity clothes.
Medication.
Documents.
Family photographs.
Then I stopped.
Michael’s words returned.
You already had the paperwork.
Dominic kept personal files in the study.
I had never touched them.
Not because I couldn’t.
Because marriage was supposed to include trust.
That trust no longer existed.
I entered the study.
His wall safe was behind a framed photograph.
I knew the combination.
Our wedding date.
The safe opened.
Inside were property records.
Insurance policies.
Investment reports.
Then I saw a thick gray envelope.
My name was written across the front.
VIVIENNE CROSS-LAURENT.
Not Vivienne Hale.
My married name.
Cross-Laurent.
My legal name before marriage.
A name Dominic almost never used.
I opened it.
The first document was not divorce paperwork.
It was worse.
It was an application for a personal financial guardianship evaluation.
My name appeared as the proposed subject.
Dominic’s appeared as petitioner.
The attached statement claimed I had become emotionally unstable during pregnancy.
It claimed I suffered memory lapses.
Financial confusion.
Paranoia.
And irrational behavior.
My hands began shaking.
At the bottom was a handwritten note.
One sentence.
If theft charge succeeds, file immediately.
I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned.
May you like
Dominic stood in the doorway.
And he knew exactly what I was holding.
