Then Ethan texted.
We need to talk. It can’t wait. I’m downstairs.
I almost ignored him. Almost. But the day had already become a courtroom without walls, and he was too connected to the damage to avoid.
When I came down, he was seated in the far corner of the hotel lobby, tie loosened, jacket folded beside him. He stood as I approached.
“You look exhausted,” he said.
“That makes two of us.”
He nodded toward the seating area. “May I?”
I sat, but not close.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The soft jazz from the lobby speakers made the conversation feel absurdly civilized.
Finally, Ethan said, “Daniel left your parents’ house.”
“Shocking.”
“He’s staying at a corporate apartment for now. He also agreed to provide a formal statement if investigators ask.”
“That would be the first useful thing he’s done.”
A shadow of a smile crossed Ethan’s face, then disappeared. “Fair.”
I folded my hands to stop them shaking. “Why are you here?”
“Because I owe you the truth.”
“Late for that.”
“Yes,” he said. “It is.”
That disarmed me more than any defense would have.
He inhaled carefully. “When those emails started, I didn’t just doubt you because of the questions about money. I doubted you because I thought you had emotionally checked out months before.”
I frowned. “I told you why I went overseas.”
“I know. And I said I supported it.”
“You didn’t?”
“I thought I did. But the closer the departure got, the more I felt like you were proving you could build a life that didn’t include me.”
I stared at him. “So instead of saying that, you assumed I was secretly scheming for your family’s money?”
“When you put it that way, I sound terrible.”
