"A reason? Just because my mother said a few things to you?"
"A reason?"
I reached into my jacket and pulled out an envelope, withdrawing a stack of printed documents. I tossed them onto the lazy Susan at the center of the table.
"First, answer me this. For five years, I deposited eighty thousand dollars into that 'joint savings' account every single month without fail. Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars total. Where did it go?"
The papers rotated slowly on the turntable, drifting to a stop in front of the James family.
Row after row of transfer records. Dates. Amounts. Recipient account numbers.
Tamara went rigid, her gaze fixed on the stack. Her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.
The James family fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances.
"Nothing to say? Then let me."
I glanced at Asher, who had frozen just as completely, and pulled out my phone, scrolling to the investigation report a friend had sent me.
"Starting this March. Less than eight months ago."
"Funds transferred from this account to a recipient ending in 8347. Account holder: Asher Gilbert."
"Forty-seven transactions. Total: four hundred sixty-eight thousand, seven hundred thirty dollars."
"March twentieth. Five thousand. Mr. Gilbert needed a new wardrobe after returning to the country."
"May seventh. Twelve thousand. Annual membership fee for an elite private club."
"July through now. Two fixed transfers per month, totaling thirty thousand. All of it paying off a car loan."
"Oh, right—that shiny new Mercedes parked outside."
"Last Friday. Fifty thousand. Wired to the developer's designated account for Riverside Estates. Memo line says 'deposit.'"
"And these—" I swiped the screen. "Corresponding charges at several high-end hotels in the city."
"Would you like me to read out the hotel names and the dates you two checked in?"
With each item I listed, another shade of color drained from Tamara's face.
Asher tried to shrink from view, a sheen of sweat forming at his temples.
The James family's expressions shifted—from shock to confusion, then to disbelief and barely concealed humiliation.
Claudia's mouth opened as if to interrupt, but no sound came out.
"Oh, one more thing." I pocketed my phone and turned to Tamara. "That new coat you're wearing. Bought last month. Twenty-eight hundred dollars."
"The limited-edition skincare set on your vanity. Twelve hundred."
"Both charged to the supplementary card linked to that account. I pulled the statements."
Tamara's body trembled. When she finally spoke, her voice came out cracked and dry. "You had me investigated?"
"How else would I find out that every dollar I scraped together over five years had become someone else's slush fund?" I kept my tone even. "Bankrolling my wife's curated lifestyle and—" I paused, letting my gaze drift to Asher, "—her affair."
"Enough!"
Tamara's shriek cut through the room. Her chest heaved, her face mottled red and white.
"Karl, isn't this exactly what you wanted? A divorce?"
"Fine! I agree! You want out? We're done!"
"We split everything fifty-fifty, but Noah's custody goes to me!"
For the first time in our marriage, I didn't bend.
I laughed.
"Fifty-fifty? Keep dreaming."
"Here's what's going to happen. You walk away with nothing."
"And you pay back every cent of that four hundred eighty thousand dollars."
"You're the one dreaming!" Terry shot to his feet, slamming his palm on the table, finger jabbing toward my face. "Karl! Who the hell do you think you are? Making my sister leave with nothing?"
"So what if she had an affair—that money is still marital property!"
I reached into the envelope and withdrew one last sheet of paper, setting it gently on the table.
A paternity test report. The conclusion page.
I read it aloud, each word carved from ice.
"This is why."
"Tamara didn't just cheat during our marriage. She had another man's child."
"Noah's biological father—isn't me!"
