Three months ago, we signed a new document—one that nullified any prior document and prenuptial agreement of any kind. If we separate, I am entitled to half of everything. I no longer need my safety net—the millions that are still tucked away in my checking account. The money has been like a virus, eating away at my otherwise perfect life. I need an antidote. I need to be cleansed.
I should have told him already. But everything has been so perfect. It is as if the man I was with before was preoccupied, and now he is free. Focused. On our life together. There are no rules; there are no secrets, except for mine.
The first few weeks we dealt with Cecile, her calls, her attempts to stop by the house. Drew is the one who finally controlled her, in his final task as Nathan’s employee. I think he has rejoined the police force, and I heard Cecile has moved to Paris. There has been no word from their camps in almost ten months, a silence I am grateful for.
I sit by the pool, my face turned to the sun, and wait, the soft pants of Groucho, our Lab, beside me. My eyes drift over to the guesthouse. What was once my home has been redone. It is now my office. The trophy wives of our expensive corner of the world now come to me for their parties, their teas, and their eight-year-old’s lavish birthday parties. The bed was taken out, a large worktable put in its place. The walls are now covered with idea boards, the bookshelves full of magazines and scrapbooks. I am not the local’s first choice for weddings and charity galas, but events too small to be dealt with by the big planners—those are my bread and butter. It keeps me busy, and I love the work, gaining confidence and experience with each event.
I am officially a wife. No longer just in name, but also in action. The stoic, cold man who I once knew is now a sexy, playful man who spoils me rotten and tells me every night how much I mean to him. Then he typically throws me on the bed and rocks my sexual world. He tapes love notes to the mirror, wakes me up with kisses and soft caresses, and has completely won my father’s heart, becoming close friends with the old man who once only knew him through photos. My father is now well, on daily medication, but living a normal life. He has a place in town, fifteen minutes away, and is a frequent guest in our home.
I look down at my hands, at the check that lies there.
$4,500,000.00. Cashing this check will leave a balance of just over fifteen thousand, enough to pay off the remaining student loans and credit cards I have lingering about.
It will be a weight off my shoulders, giving it back, even though I am on his accounts now, and know the full extent of his wealth. This money is not needed; it will be excess cream on an already overflowing cup. But for me, the act is symbolic. I am giving him my trust. Destroying my safety net. Putting my faith in him—in us.
The check won’t fix everything. At moments when he is being especially sweet, when his eyes are full of love and shining at me like I can do no wrong … I think about Drew. Even though it meant nothing, even though I was filling a hole that Nathan had dug, it sits there, on my conscience. I keep waiting, thinking that he will bring it back up, will ask more questions. But maybe he feels about Drew the same way that I feel about Cecile. I don’t want to hear about anything they did, or words that passed between them. I only want to know that his heart is mine, and that he wants nothing to do with her.
My hands fist nervously around the check, wondering at his reaction to it. I know that he loves me. Loves me in a way stronger than he ever felt for Cecile. It took a while for me to fully grasp and accept that. For me, I think I always knew how I felt. I was lost to him the moment I saw him, the moment his eyes followed me in the dark club. I was always his, and I finally believe that he is fully mine. To have. To hold. Till death do us part.
I hear the drag of gates, the crunch of tires, and know that he is here. Gripping the check, I stand and move to meet my husband.
He greets me with an easy smile, tossing a set of plans onto the side table and sweeping me into his arms. His hand gathers my hair, tenderly gripping it as his mouth takes my own, his free arm curving around and pulling me tightly into him.
I push gently against his chest, the hand holding the check squished between our bodies. “I need to talk to you.”
His eyes turn serious, his hand stilling on my hair. “What’s wrong? Is it your father?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just need a minute with you.”
He tilts his head, a question in his eyes, and smiles warily. “Okay. Let’s go to the couch.”
He settles into the leather, looking at me expectantly. I sit on the ottoman before him, my hand gripping the folded check tightly. “There’s something I haven’t been honest about. Something I did a long time ago.” I hold out the check and he takes it, unfolding it slowly, his eyes scanning the paper’s surface before he looks up at me. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to explain. “I … When I found out about the money, the Bahamas … I thought you might leave me.” I pause, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I thought you’d want me to leave once you got the money, once I fulfilled my purpose. With my father, with his medical bills … I took some of the money. As a safety net. From CeeCee's account.”
He glances down at the check. “A four and a half million dollar safety net?” His voice is quiet, scarily so, devoid of any emotion, no clues in his tone.
I shrug weakly, panic increasing at his lack of reaction. “I’m sorry Nathan. I just couldn’t imagine Cecile not coming back. And I saw how much you loved her. I knew that I would lose that battle—that you would leave me and choose her. I could afford to disappoint myself, but I couldn’t re-abandon my father.”
He leans forward and gently lifts my chin, pulling my eyes to his. “I didn’t love her,” he says firmly. “I thought I did. But what we have? This is love.” He holds my gaze until I nod, then releases me, sitting back and looking at the check, his face tight. “Your father’s situation doesn’t excuse what you did.”
I swallow hard, my heart rate increasing. I had expected Nathan to be angry, had prepared myself for an argument, a practiced apology ready. But I didn’t expect, hadn’t prepared myself for any serious consequences. Not from the man who had proven day after day, in every moment of the last year, that he was head over heels in love with me. But now, looking at his tight face and hearing the granite in his words, the gravity of this situation hits me full force. I’d stolen millions of dollars from him. I’d kept a secret of enormous magnitude through a year’s worth of “I love you’s” and early morning cuddles. This is a sin that could cause our demise. I had flippantly expected forgiveness, never thinking of the horrific alternative.