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I need the money. Along with our joint account, we have our personal accounts, but Shawn has no right to take what isn’t his. His half, yes. But by doing this, he’s proving playing fair is no longer in his nature.

How could a man, who once loved me, now think so little of me?

Hooking my handbag over my arm, I hurry from the bank, my heels clicking loudly atop the marble floor. Once outside, I scan the street, at a loss on what to do next. I need a lawyer, that much is evident. But what I really want is a stiff drink. I weave through the busy lunchtime crowd until I see Amero’s hotel bar, an elegant and often quiet place to have a drink away from any rowdy patrons.

“Blythe,” Caleb the barman greets with a smile. He stops polishing the crystal glasses and focuses solely on me. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

I sit on a barstool and place my handbag next to me. I know I look rattled and Caleb must see it, too, because his eyes narrow slightly. “I know. You know how it is… life gets in the way.”

He gives me a small smile while starting to make my martini, one of the many he’s made for me over the years. “I do know. So, how’s Shawn?”

A fucking dead man.

“He’s fine. Much the same. Busy, busy, busy.”

Busy being a lying bastard.

Caleb seems unconvinced, but sensing I’m not going to elaborate, he busies himself making my martini. Pulling my cell free, I find Shawn’s number, my thumb hovering over the call button. I need to know why he’s playing these games. We hear of these types of malicious stories happening to other married couples, but never once did I think Shawn would be capable of such a thing. Caleb slides the martini over and moves to serve another patron. I take a large gulp, keen for some liquid courage and press call. I listen to the ring tone, twisting the olive stick between my fingers.

“You’ve reached Shawn Cooper. Leave a message.”

I’m half-tempted to leave a string of vile curses but know it won’t work in my favor. I end the call and try again. By the third time of not answering, I concede he never will.

Instead, I dial his work number and wait.

“Welcome to Usher and Gainsburg, this is Courtney, how may I help you?”

Hmm… what happened to Becky?

“Hi Courtney,” I start. “I’m needing to speak with Shawn Cooper as a matter of urgency, please.”

“Shawn Cooper?”

“Correct.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no Shawn Cooper working at Usher and Gainsburg.”

“Perhaps because you’re new you haven’t heard of him, yet. He’s in the acquisitions division.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ve been working here going on a year, and I can promise you, there is no Shawn Cooper.”

I sigh in frustration. “Okay, Courtney, can you please put me through to Darryl Kinsworth, same department.”

“That I can do. Have a great day.”

She puts me on hold, and I wonder how she can know of Darryl but not Shawn.

“Hello, Darryl speaking.”

“Darryl, it’s Blythe Cooper, Shawn’s wife.”

There’s a pause before he responds, “Oh, hey, Blythe. It’s been a while.”

“Last Christmas party, in fact.”

At that last Christmas party, I caught you with your pants around your ankles banging Linda from accounting in your boss’s office.

“Look, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I asked to be put through to Shawn, and your new receptionist doesn’t seem to know who he is.”

“I, um… I’m not understanding, Blythe. Why would you call here to speak with Shawn?” Gotta give it to him, his acting skills are top-notch. But my patience is already wearing thin without Darryl’s inquisition.

“Because he’s not answering his cell. Look, I don’t know what he’s told you about us, but I really need to speak with him.”

“And I understand that, but Shawn doesn’t work here anymore.”

“Darryl, this isn’t the time for jokes—”

“Blythe, I can tell you with a hundred percent certainty that Shawn doesn’t work here anymore and hasn’t for almost a year.”

“For almost a year?” I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched for the second time today. “What the hell do you mean he hasn’t worked there in almost a year?”

Darryl appears genuinely perplexed by my reaction. “Well, he never returned to work after we closed for Christmas.”

“Well, did… did he say why?”

“I thought perhaps you could answer that. There was no resignation submitted or anything. He just… never showed up.”

The room begins to spin around me, and I clutch the bar for support.

What the hell is happening?

What the hell has my husband been up to for the past year?

It seems everything in his life has become one giant lie—not just his marriage.

“Blythe?” Darryl checks to see if I’m still on the line. “I really don’t know what to make of this. Obviously, he didn’t feel comfortable in telling you.”

“Obviously,” I concur. “Th-thanks,” I stammer, ending the call.

“Everything okay?” Caleb asks, concerned. “You’ve gone ghostly pale.”

“Just fine,” I lie, downing my martini in one go. “See you next time.” I throw a twenty on the counter and exit onto the busy city street. I need my sister. I need to talk to someone who can offer an outsider’s perspective, because right now, I’m too riled up to think clearly. Dialing Samantha’s number, I wait, until once again, I hear her voicemail.

“What is with everyone lately,” I exclaim, drawing cautious glances from those walking by.

I dial once more and when it goes to voicemail, I leave a message. “Sam, please call me. I don’t know where you’ve disappeared to, but I need a voice of reason, and believe it or not, you’re it. Hope you’re okay.”

Ending the call, I ring through to Amanda at

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