Our Wicked Lies Gledé Kabongo (summer reading list .txt) 📖

Mimicking his behavior, she looked him square in the face, without flinching. “When have I ever kept the truth about anything from you? When have I ever lied to you, to your face? When have I ever deliberately hurt you, over and over again?”

It was only momentary, but terror flashed in his eyes. A vein popped out in his neck. Then just as quickly, a smile, meant to reassure and beguile, spread across his face.

“I can’t say that you have. Your honesty is one of the things I love most about you.”

“I hope I’ll always be able to say the same about you.”

CHAPTER 27

Her appointment with Wesley George was set for three. The main office was situated on Atlantic Avenue in Boston, but she’d requested that they meet at the Wellesley location instead. Kat’s agency was on Atlantic Avenue, Eliot’s firm less than a mile away in the financial district. She couldn’t risk running into either of them.

Wesley greeted her in the posh reception area with an outstretched hand. “Call me Wes,” he insisted.

He seemed to be in his late forties, around Eliot’s age, African American, with baby-smooth skin, a neat moustache, and bow legs. His suit, though expensive, was slightly loose-fitting, as if he had recently lost weight.

He ushered her into the office. A bookshelf, file cabinet, and coffee maker were strategically placed around the room. A thick file sat in the center of the desk.

After she declined an offer of coffee, they both took seats. Wes opened the file, scanned some documents, and then closed the folder.

“So, Alicia, what can I do for you? What brings you here?”

She placed her hands in her lap and nervously smacked her lips. “Exploring my options. My husband has cheated, and I no longer trust him, and I don’t think I ever will again.”

“I see.” Wes leaned back in his leather chair and twirled a pen. “You have proof of the affair?”

“Plenty.”

She rummaged through her bag for the printed copies of the email exchange between her and Faith. She handed it to Wes. He read through the first pages, then placed them in the folder.

“So, you want an estimate of what you could walk away with if it came down to it, if you decide to end the marriage?”

When he put it like that, it made her sound like a gold digger. The word sent shivers up and down her spine. She wasn’t greedy. She could make do with little. Money wasn’t what all this was about, but she couldn’t be selfish either. She had to look out for Lily and Marston. Make sure that college tuition, health insurance, a trust, and investments were set up so they could continue to enjoy the lifestyle they had become accustomed to, and so on.

As for herself, she just didn’t want to end up like her mother, struggling after her father abandoned them. She only needed enough funds for a fresh start somewhere. A small apartment with enough room to accommodate the girls when they came to visit, with enough left over to finish up her degree. She had no idea what she would do about a job to earn a steady income, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it. Once she got her degree, who knew what path lay ahead for her?

Perhaps Kat would have pity on her and hire her. As what though? Gosh, she was pathetic. Eliot had all the power, and here she was in a divorce lawyer’s office with no cards to play.

“I’m not asking for the world or to stick it to Eliot if that’s what you’re thinking. I just want my girls to be okay and have a little something for myself to start over. He’s the one who cheated. I devoted twenty years of my life to him. That should count for something, right?”

“Your girls are sixteen and almost eighteen?” he asked.

“Marston turns eighteen in July, two months from now. Lily will be seventeen in January of next year.”

“Do you think he will contest the divorce if you file?”

She hadn’t considered that. Would Eliot refuse to let her go? He was stubborn, and his family meant the world to him. But he’d forfeited that family the moment he cheated. When the time came, she would simply reason with him, explain why she couldn’t stay married to him anymore. He would have to relent in the face of her irrefutable proof—the vicious emails from Faith, the sonogram.

Yet, despite his betrayal, her endless moments of paralyzing fear and doubt, and Faith’s disturbing claims, she knew deep down in her soul that Eliot still loved her. He always would.

She inhaled deeply. “Honestly, Wes, I don’t have a great answer. Does that complicate things?”

“Not at all,” he affirmed. “In fact, it would be in his best interest to settle quickly and painlessly.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Did you have a prenup?”

“No. We married young. Eliot had just graduated law school, a first-year associate at Tillerson Brenner.”

Wes nodded then asked, “How much does he make? Do you know the state of your finances, assets, property, investments, stock portfolio, that sort of thing?”

Wes should just write stupid idiot in big red letters on her forehead right now and spare them both the embarrassment of her ignorance. Eliot handled the family finances. She never got specific because she figured he was better at that sort of thing than she was. However, he always informed her that they were financially secured and that she never had to worry.

He gave her access to his American Express Centurion card, and she had another backup credit card, a household expense account, and a checking account in her name. But who was she kidding? That was all money Eliot earned.

“Eliot is a partner and makes eight figures, but I’m not sure about the exact number. There’s the house we live in, the vacation home on Martha’s Vineyard, and the one in Acapulco. Oh, and he’s also a