Chapter 5: The Woman Before Me
I read the message three times.
Not because I didn’t understand the words.
Because I did.
And my mind was trying to reject them.
*He did the same thing to someone before you.*
The sentence sat on my phone screen like a warning from a stranger who knew my deepest fear.
I had always believed Julian’s cruelty started with me.
That somehow, I had failed.
That maybe if I had been kinder, calmer, easier to love, he would have stayed the man I married.
But now there was another possibility.
Maybe I was never the beginning.
Maybe I was just the next person.
My father noticed my expression.
“Natalie?””
I locked my phone.
“Claire says Julian did this before.””
Dad’s face changed.
“Before you?””
I nodded.
The cold air suddenly felt heavier.
My father stood.
“Call her.””
I looked at the message.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
A part of me wanted answers.
Another part of me was terrified of them.
Because answers meant there was no going back.
If Claire told me the truth, I couldn’t return to pretending.
I couldn’t wake up tomorrow and tell myself it had all been a misunderstanding.
I couldn’t keep protecting the image of my marriage.
I pressed call.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Then a woman answered.
“Hello?””
Her voice was younger than I expected.
Nervous.
Careful.
“Claire?””
A pause.
“Yes.””
“I’m Natalie.””
Silence.
Then a quiet breath.
“I know.””
I looked at my father.
“How?””
“Your father gave me your number.””
I frowned.
“When?””
“Yesterday.””
My father looked away.
Another secret.
Another thing he had carried alone.
“Claire,” I said, “what do you mean he did this before?””
There was a long silence.
When she finally spoke, her voice had changed.
Like she was opening a door she had kept locked for a very long time.
“His first wife.””
I froze.
“His first wife?””
My father looked at me.
I had never heard anything about Julian being married before.
Not once.
“What first wife?””
Claire sighed.
“Her name was Emma.””
I felt my stomach drop.
“Julian was married before me?””
“Yes.””
“How long?””
“Almost three years.””
I looked at the house.
At the Christmas lights.
At the decorations.
At the life I thought I knew.
“How did I not know this?””
Claire didn’t answer immediately.
Then she said:
“Because Julian doesn’t tell people things that make him look bad.””
The words were simple.
But they felt painfully familiar.
I closed my eyes.
“What happened to Emma?””
Another pause.
Then Claire said:
“She disappeared.””
My heart skipped.
“What does that mean?””
“She left.””
“Why?””
Claire lowered her voice.
“Because everyone thought she was unstable.””
The same word.
Again.
I felt sick.
My father’s expression hardened.
“Tell us everything,” he said.
Claire must have heard him.
“Is Walter there?””
“Yes.””
She exhaled.
“Good.””
I walked away from the house, needing space.
Needing air.
“Claire, start from the beginning.””
She was quiet for a moment.
Then:
“I worked for Julian for two years. When I started, he seemed perfect.””
I almost laughed.
Everyone said that.
“He was charming,” she continued.
“He remembered little details. He brought coffee to meetings. He made everyone feel important.””
I stared at the snow.
“That’s how it starts.””
“Yes.””
Her answer was immediate.
Like she had learned that lesson the hard way.
“Then slowly, things changed.””
“How?””
“He started blaming people when things went wrong.””
I listened.
“He would make jokes about employees in private. He would embarrass people, then say they were too sensitive if they reacted.””
My hands tightened around my phone.
“That sounds like him.””
“I know.””
Claire’s voice became quieter.
“Because I watched him do it to you.””
A chill ran through me.
“You were there?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Last month.””
I looked toward the house.
“Where?””
“At the charity dinner.””
I remembered.
A hotel ballroom.
Hundreds of people.
Julian smiling.
Everyone telling me how lucky I was.
I remembered him squeezing my arm under the table when I disagreed with him.
Hard enough that I had to hide the pain.
“You saw that?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t you say anything?””
Her silence answered before she did.
“Because I was afraid.””
I swallowed.
Everyone was afraid.
“But you had proof.””
“I didn’t have enough.””
“What about the recording?””
“I got that later.””
“Why?””
Claire hesitated.
“Because he started doing it to me.””
I stopped walking.
“What?””
“He blamed me for mistakes he made. He told my boss I was unreliable. He started changing my schedule without telling me. He made me apologize for things I didn’t do.””
My father came closer.
I could see anger in his face.
Not explosive anger.
The kind that sits deep.
The kind that remembers.
“What happened when you confronted him?”” I asked.
Claire went quiet.
Then:
“He grabbed my arm.””
My breath caught.
“Did he hurt you?””
“Not badly.””
I hated those words.
Not badly.
The words everyone used when something was still wrong but not dramatic enough for people to care.
“He told me nobody would believe me.””
My throat tightened.
“Why?””
“Because he had already built the story.””
I knew exactly what she meant.
“He told people I was obsessed with him.””
My stomach twisted.
“He said I was angry because I didn’t get promoted.””
I whispered:
“He made you the problem.””
“Yes.””
The backyard went silent.
Only the sound of Claire’s breathing came through the phone.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Emma warned me.””
“Emma?””
“She contacted me after I started working there.””
“Why?””
“Because she recognized the pattern.””
I looked at my father.
“Where is she?””
Claire hesitated.
“I don’t know.””
“What?””
“She left town after the divorce.””
“Do you know where?””
“No.””
My chest tightened.
“How can we find her?””
Claire didn’t answer.
That silence worried me.
“Claire?””
“She doesn’t want to be found.””
“Why?””
“Because Julian made sure she believed nobody would ever believe her.””
The words hurt because they sounded exactly like something he would do.
I sat down on the steps again.
My father sat beside me.
“Claire,” I said softly, “why send me the picture now?””
Her breathing changed.
“Because I saw what happened on Christmas Eve.””
I froze.
“What?””
“I was nearby.””
“How?””
“I came back to town.””
“Why?””
“To get the evidence.””
My heart started racing.
“What evidence?””
“The recording.””
My father leaned closer.
Claire continued.
“After he hurt me, I started documenting everything. Conversations. Messages.
Meetings. I knew one day he would say I was lying.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“You recorded him?””
“Yes.””
“Doing what?””
Another pause.
Then:
“Admitting everything.””
The words hung in the air.
I felt something shift.
For months, Julian’s favorite weapon had been uncertainty.
He made everything blurry.
He made me question my own memory.
But now there was something clear.
Something undeniable.
“When can I see it?””
“Not yet.””
My heart sank.
“Why?””
“Because there’s something you need to understand first.””
“What?””
Claire’s voice dropped.
“Julian knows about the recording.””
My father looked at me.
“How?””
“I don’t know.””
“Then why did you contact me?””
“Because I think he’s looking for me.””
The wind stopped.
Or maybe I just stopped hearing it.
“What do you mean?””
“I mean he knows someone has evidence.””
My father stood.
“Are you safe?””
Claire didn’t answer.
That scared me.
“Claire?””
Finally, she whispered:
“I was safe.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
“What happened?””
“My hotel room was searched tonight.””
My father’s face changed.
“Where are you now?””
“Somewhere he doesn’t know.””
“Claire—”
“I need you to listen carefully, Natalie.””
Her voice shook.
“Do not go back inside that house alone.””
I looked toward the living room.
The place where I had spent years trying to feel safe.
“I’m not going back.””
“Good.””
A pause.
Then Claire said:
“Because there’s one more thing.””
“What?””
“The recording isn’t just about me.””
My father looked at me.
“What does that mean?””
Claire whispered:
“Julian recorded every woman he thought he could control.””
My blood went cold.
Every woman.
Not one.
Not two.
Every woman.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new message appeared.
From Claire.
A photo.
Not of Julian.
Not of the recording.
Of a folder.
With my name written across it.
*NATALIE VOSS — EVIDENCE*
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then Claire spoke one final sentence.
“Natalie… that folder was created before you ever met him.””
