“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
“I don’t want a scene,” he muttered.
“You lost the right to a quiet conversation when you answered a photo of your premature daughters with one word.”
His face changed. “Helen—”
“Cute,” I said. “That was your word.”
Claire looked at him sharply. “You saw your babies in the hospital and sent that?”
Then he shifted into the tone I remembered from every argument we had ever had.
He snapped, “I was on a ship with bad reception. I didn’t know what to say.”
Then he shifted into the tone I remembered from every argument we had ever had, the one where he spoke like the victim of other people’s reactions.
“I came back because we need to settle things like adults,” he said. “The divorce. The finances. The house.”
“The house?”
“We can’t afford to drag this out,” he said. “We need to be practical.”
“You were gone for four months.”
“And custody?” I asked.
“If you make this ugly, yes.”
“You were gone for four months.”
“I still have rights.”
A man behind him said, “Daniel?”
Daniel turned.
The man wore a gray suit and carried a thick envelope.
The process server had arrived right on time.
That part was not luck. After my lawyer confirmed Daniel’s return flight, she arranged service at the airport. Public place. Verified arrival. No ducking the papers.
The man wore a gray suit and carried a thick envelope.
“Are you Daniel?” he repeated.
Daniel’s face lost color.
The process server handed him the envelope.
“What is this?”
The process server handed him the envelope.
“You’ve been served.”
Claire looked between the two of them. “Served with what?”
I answered before Daniel could.
“My divorce filing, emergency financial orders, and notice that the bank has been told about the forged mortgage documents.”
“You did this when you forged my name on a second mortgage.”
Daniel turned to me. “You did this here?”
“No,” I said. “You did this when you forged my name on a second mortgage and used the money to fund your Mediterranean vacation.”
Claire went completely still.
“What?”
I kept my eyes on Daniel.
“There was no company contest. There was debt. A lot of it.”
Claire looked at him like she had never seen him before.
“That’s not—”
I cut him off. “I found the loan documents. I found the notices from the bank. I found my forged signature.”
Claire looked at him like she had never seen him before.
“You told me you won that trip.”
Daniel tried a smile that collapsed halfway through. “I can explain.”
“Can you?” she asked.
He looked at me then, furious now that the performance had failed.
He reached for her arm.
She stepped away before he touched her.
“You have a wife, three newborns, foreclosure risk, and forged loan documents,” she said. “What exactly is the explanation supposed to sound like?”
He looked at me then, furious now that the performance had failed.
“You set me up.”
I adjusted the blanket over the nearest baby.
He opened the envelope with shaking hands and flipped through the pages with a panicked urgency.
“No,” I said. “I let the truth meet you where you landed.”
He opened the envelope with shaking hands and flipped through the pages with a panicked urgency.
