“It isn’t. But neither is staying miserable because you’re afraid of what might happen.”
The next day, she signed a preliminary agreement to lease the space.
I was proud of her.
Proud enough that I almost forgot I was supposed to be keeping my distance.
Then, six weeks after that first rainy night, she called me at midnight.
“I found out who she is.”
I sat upright.
“Who?”
“Natalie. The woman Michael has been seeing.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did he tell you?”
“No. My attorney received documents during the divorce proceedings. There were expenses I couldn’t explain, and I hired a private investigator to establish when the affair began.”
I waited.
“Four years, Alex.”
Four years.
Michael had told Karen the relationship was six months old. Now she had evidence suggesting otherwise.
“He was seeing her when my mother died,” Karen continued.
Her voice trembled.
“He was seeing her when I sat beside my mother’s hospital bed for three nights because she was frightened to sleep alone. He told me he couldn’t come because he had an important business conference.”
