“I called her.”
Of course he had.
“What did she say?”
“That you were having an episode.”
Despite myself, I smiled bitterly.
“She said you found some old bank transfers and were turning them into a conspiracy. She said tonight was supposed to be the night she finally told you it was over.”
“Did she mention you?”
“She told me not to worry about Daniel because he was just a friend.”
I rubbed my forehead.
Adrian continued. “Then I asked why you thought we were still married in the normal sense if she had told me you were separated.”
“And?”
“She hung up.”
That was new. Vanessa almost never hung up on people. She preferred to control the last sentence.
Adrian’s voice sounded different now.
“I owe you an apology.”
I said nothing.
“I believed her.”
“You believed what was convenient.”
“I did.”
The honesty disarmed me more than an excuse would have.
“I should have confirmed,” he said. “I should have asked harder questions.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
He accepted that.
Then he said, “There’s something else.”
I waited.
“The folder I mentioned. I looked at the outside more carefully. It’s not bank paperwork. It’s copies of your house records.”
I stood.
“What house records?”
“Mortgage statement. Homeowner’s insurance. A county tax bill. Something from a lender.”
“What lender?”
“I can read the logo. Garden State Home Finance.”
I knew the name.
Six weeks earlier I had received a marketing call from Garden State offering a home equity line of credit. I declined because we had no need for one.
“Is there an application?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t opened the folder.”
“Don’t.”
“Fine.”
“Why does she have copies at your apartment?”
“I assumed they were for the separation.”
I walked toward the small file cabinet beside our desk.
The folder containing our mortgage documents was there.
But several photocopies were missing from the section where I kept the last appraisal and property tax statement.
My heartbeat changed.
This was no longer only about infidelity.
I called Rachel again.
This time she answered immediately.
“What happened?”
I told her.
Her response was fast.
“Do not accuse Vanessa of fraud tonight.”
“I didn’t say fraud.”
“You were about to.”