Chapter 3: The Woman in the Photograph
I didn't sleep that night.
Lily woke every two hours, and each time I fed her, I found myself staring at the ceiling.
Daniel slept beside me.
He had the nerve to snore.
At 3:12 a.m., I got out of bed and walked downstairs.
The house was dark except for the small light above the kitchen sink.
I opened my laptop.
Daniel had always handled our finances.
He paid the mortgage, managed the savings accounts, and dealt with our investment adviser.
I had never considered it a problem.
We were married.
We trusted each other.
At least, I thought we did.
I logged into our joint bank account.
The first thing I noticed was a hotel payment.
$1,840.
Then another.
$2,200.
Then a transfer of $8,500 to an account I didn't recognize.
I scrolled.
There were restaurant bills, jewelry purchases, expensive clothing stores, and repeated payments to a company called Westbridge Property Management.
I had never heard of it.
The total was almost $47,000 over four months.
My hands began to shake.
I opened the transaction details.
One of the hotel payments had been made on the night Daniel claimed he was preparing his presentation.
The night I went into labor.
I stared at the date.
Then I opened my phone.
The hospital records showed that I had called him eleven times between 6:45 p.m. and 11:30 p.m.
During that same period, our joint account showed a payment at a restaurant downtown.
Two people.
$386.
I felt sick.
I was lying in a hospital bed, terrified and waiting for my husband.
He was spending nearly four hundred dollars on dinner.
With someone else.
I heard footsteps.
I closed the laptop.
Daniel entered the kitchen wearing sweatpants.
"What are you doing up?""
"Feeding Lily.""
"At three in the morning?""
I looked at him.
"She's a newborn, Daniel.""
He opened the refrigerator.
"Right.""
He poured himself water.
I watched him.
"Who is Westbridge Property Management?""
His hand stopped.
"What?""
"Westbridge. I saw payments.""
He turned around.
"Business expenses.""
"Since when do you own property?""
"I don't. It's a client.""
"Then why are payments coming out of our joint account?""
He put the glass down.
"Emily, I don't want to have this conversation.""
"Why?""
"Because you're looking for problems.""
I stood up.
"Forty-seven thousand dollars isn't a small problem.""
His expression hardened.
"You went through our accounts?""
"Our accounts, Daniel.""
He laughed once.
"Unbelievable.""
I stared at him.
"Did you spend that money on another woman?""
He didn't answer immediately.
And that silence told me more than any confession could have.
"Go back to bed, Emily.""
I felt tears burning behind my eyes.
"Who is she?""
He walked past me.
"You're making a mistake.""
"What mistake?""
He stopped at the stairs.
"Don't go digging into things you don't understand.""
Then he went upstairs.
I remained in the kitchen until sunrise.
The following morning, I called my older sister, Rachel.
She answered on the second ring.
"Emily? What's wrong?""
I tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
"Hey. Slow down. Is Lily okay?""
"She's fine.""
"Then what happened?""
I told her everything.
The labor.
The money.
The hotel.
The bank transactions.
When I finished, Rachel was silent.
Then she asked one question.
"Do you still have access to the bank account?""
"Yes.""
"Take screenshots of everything.""
"Why?""
"Because I don't trust what he's going to do next.""
I swallowed.
"Rachel, do you think he's cheating?""
She exhaled.
"Emily, I think you need to stop worrying about whether he's cheating and start finding out what he's doing with your money.""
That afternoon, Rachel came over.
She brought groceries, diapers, and a folder of paperwork.
"What's this?"" I asked.
"Copies of your financial documents. You need to understand what's yours.""
I looked at her.
"How did you get these?""
"Remember when you asked me to help organize your tax records last year? I kept copies of the documents you sent.""
I nodded.
Rachel sat at the kitchen table.
"Show me the transactions.""
I opened the laptop.
She studied the payments.
Then she frowned.
"Emily, this isn't just an affair.""
"What do you mean?""
She pointed at the repeated transfers.
"These amounts look like they're going somewhere specific. They're not random purchases.""
"Could it be another property?""
"Possibly.""
She leaned closer to the screen.
"Do you recognize this account number?""
I shook my head.
Rachel took out her phone and photographed the screen.
"I want you to speak to a lawyer.""
I looked toward the stairs.
Daniel was upstairs with Lily.
"Maybe I'm overreacting.""
Rachel reached across the table.
"Listen to me. You gave birth alone because he decided his work mattered more than you. You don't owe him another opportunity to explain away something that doesn't make sense.""
I looked down at my hands.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
*Unknown:* You don't know me, but I think you deserve to know what Daniel is doing.
A photograph followed.
I opened it.
My breath stopped.
It showed Daniel standing outside a restaurant, his arm around a woman in a red dress.
She was beautiful.
Long dark hair.
A diamond necklace.
One hand resting against his chest.
But it wasn't the woman that frightened me.
It was the date.
The photograph had been taken the previous evening.
The night I was in labor.
Rachel leaned over my shoulder.
"Oh my God.""
Another message arrived.
*Unknown:* My name is Vanessa. I've been seeing your husband for eleven months.
I stared at the screen.
Eleven months.
Before the nursery.
Before the baby shower.
Before Daniel started telling everyone how excited he was to become a father.
Another message appeared.
*Vanessa:* He told me you two were separated.
I felt something cold move through my chest.
Then she sent one final message.
*Vanessa:* Emily, there's something else. Daniel told me he was going to leave you after the baby was born. But that's not why I'm contacting you.
I typed with trembling fingers.
*Me:* Then why are you contacting me?
The reply came almost immediately.
*Vanessa:* Because I found out what he did with your inheritance.
I stared at those words.
My inheritance.
The money my father had left me before he died.
The money I had placed into our joint investment account after Daniel promised we were building a future together.
I looked at Rachel.
She was already reaching for her phone.
"Emily," she whispered, "call the bank.""
May you like
But before I could move, another message arrived.
*Vanessa:* He used your money to buy a house. And Emily, the house isn't in your name.
