Tessa’s expression changed instantly.
“What happened?”
“Later.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
But I wasn’t going to destroy my own wedding without knowing what I was destroying it over.
So I smiled.
I cut the cake.
I danced with my husband.
I posed for photographs.
I kissed him when guests clinked their glasses.
And every time Marcus whispered that he loved me, one sentence played in my head.
Daddy goes to see a lady every Saturday.
That night, Marcus fell asleep almost immediately.
I didn’t.
At 1:38 a.m., I slipped out of bed wearing one of his old T-shirts and carried his laptop downstairs.
I knew the password.
He knew mine.
We had never behaved like people with secrets.
At least, I hadn’t.
Marcus had told me repeatedly that his business was still barely surviving.
So I opened the company banking portal expecting to see exactly what he’d shown me for months.
Low balances.
Late invoices.
Debt.
Instead, I sat perfectly still.
There was money.
A lot of it.
Three months earlier, Marcus’s company had received a payment of nearly $240,000 from a hotel development group.
