“You knew,” he said quietly.
“I found out after the divorce.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were too busy telling everyone I couldn’t have children.”
Vanessa’s mouth parted slightly.
That was the first real crack.
Adrian had built his entire new image around that lie. Poor Adrian, trapped in a loveless marriage with a cold wife who couldn’t give him children. Noble Adrian, rebuilding his life with a younger, loyal woman. Generous Adrian, leaving me with “more than enough.”
I let him keep talking.
I let him post online.
I let him do interviews, move money around, restructure accounts, parade around his wedding, and turn my name into some tragic cautionary story.
What Adrian forgot was who I’d been before I ever became his wife.
I wasn’t decoration.
I wasn’t just Mrs. Carter smiling beside him at corporate galas.
I was a forensic financial analyst.
