“Who else had them?”

That question stayed with me.

Later, Rebecca called.

She had reviewed everything.

Some of Grant’s supposed “business travel” lined up almost perfectly with trips involving Vanessa.

But the anonymous complaint contained receipts Rebecca had never possessed.

Only a few people would have had access.

Grant.

His executive assistant.

And Vanessa.

That night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling.

For the first time, I wondered whether Vanessa had wanted more than my husband.

Maybe she wanted him stripped of every reason he might ever leave her.

PART 3 — SHE WANTED AN AUDIENCE

My divorce became final in February.

Outside the courthouse, Grant asked for five minutes.

He looked older.

The expensive confidence was gone.

“You were right about some things,” he said.

“Some?”

“I made mistakes.”

“You made decisions.”

He looked irritated.

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Correct every word.”

“Because calling an eight-month affair a mistake makes it sound like you tripped.”

He exhaled.

“Vanessa was going through a terrible time.”

“So was I once I found out you were sleeping with her.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.”

He looked toward the street.

“I thought she understood me.”

“And now?”

He didn’t answer.

I walked away.