Rachel clung to Boris, nuzzling against him.
"Don't worry, it's almost done. I've already transferred her car into my name. Once I get the house signed over to you, I'll officially file for divorce."
"Baby, you're so smart, coming up with that whole 'failed business' story. That frumpy wife of yours is so in love with you, she'd sell everything she owns to support you."
Listening to the audio from the dashcam footage, I started trembling uncontrollably. My eyes burned, and I couldn't stop them from going red.
The most recent video was from just two hours ago. The two of them, making out in the car.
How had I never seen it? The man I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with had been scheming against me with another woman this entire time.
The car was part of my dowry, but I didn't have a license, so Boris had always been the one driving it. That was probably why he assumed I knew nothing about the vehicle.
He hadn't bothered to cover his tracks.
I downloaded the videos one by one. My hands shook the entire time.
"Babe, grab me a dry towel?" Boris's voice drifted out from the bathroom.
I took a deep breath and forced my emotions down.
I handed him a towel. He came out of the bathroom after his shower, grinning at me without a shred of shame. "Come on, babe, let's go to bed. I owe you some quality time tonight."
My stomach lurched. I nearly threw up.
"I'm not in the mood." I turned him down.
Boris shrugged it off like it didn't matter.
He was so sure he'd covered every angle.
"Honey, we need to move forward with the house, too. I've already found a buyer. Don't worry. Once I get back on my feet, we'll build everything back together. We'll have it all."
He was feeding me lies, but they were wrapped in the very future I'd dreamed of. I wanted a beautiful life with him. He was the one who'd destroyed it with his own hands.
I gave a vague "mm-hmm" and let the conversation die.
The next morning, Boris left early. He said he was heading out of town to look at a project and wouldn't be back for a couple of days.
I just nodded.
Sure enough, not long after he left, I pulled up the car's location on my phone. He'd taken Rachel to the hospital.
Inside the car, Rachel was pressing him. "What's happening with the house? Did that frumpy wife of yours agree to sign it over so you can sell it?"
"Relax. When I turn on the charm, nobody says no. She's clueless. Practically tripped over herself agreeing."
"Once the house goes through and you divorce her, we'll buy a big place together. Start our happy little life."
The two of them sat there, dreaming about their future.
I walked into a law office.
My hands were shaking as I laid everything out in front of the attorney.
He reviewed all the materials, then looked up at me. "Mrs. Taylor, what is it you're seeking?"
"An immediate divorce." I paused, then added, "Is the evidence I have enough?"
The attorney nodded. "More than enough. Your husband fabricated a financial crisis to defraud you of marital assets, and he's been having an affair. Your case is fully supported."
"I'll have the divorce agreement drafted and sent to you within two days."
I thanked him and left.
I barely remembered walking out of the building. On my phone, the car's GPS showed it parked at the hospital. Boris was probably there with Rachel for a prenatal checkup.
Over the next two days, he drove her to see flower fields.
