Then:
I’m your husband.
Then:
This is ridiculous.
I almost laughed.
He still thought the word husband gave him power.
I typed one sentence.
You should check the front door when you get home.
Then I sent it.
Ryan responded immediately.
“What does that mean?”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I turned off my phone.
For the first time in eleven years, I slept without waiting for my husband to come home.
The next morning, I woke up feeling strangely light.
There was no knot in my stomach.
No wondering where Ryan was.
No checking his location.
No imagining excuses.
Just silence.
And freedom.
At nine thirty, Daniel called.
“We have the corporate records.”
“And?”
“Norah Lawson owns Lawson Strategic Holdings.”
My hands tightened around my coffee cup.
“How long?”
“Four years.”
Four years.
Ryan had known her for six months.
Or at least that was what he had told me.
