Then a property management company.
Then something called Rowe Consulting.
I stared at the last name.
“Rowe?”
Rosalind nodded.
“Does that name mean anything?”
I felt a chill move through me.
“Bree’s mother’s maiden name is Rowe.”
Rosalind looked at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then she asked:
“Does Bree have a brother?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
“Caleb.”
Rosalind slowly closed the folder.
“Interesting.”
My phone buzzed.
It was a message from Tanner.
Can we talk? I want to explain everything.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
Please don’t let Rosalind destroy our marriage before you hear me.
I showed it to Rosalind.
She didn’t react.
“Do you want to hear him?”
I thought about it.
“Yes.”
“But not alone.”
“I know.”
That afternoon, Tanner came to Rosalind’s office.
He looked exhausted.
His beard had grown in.
His shirt was wrinkled.
He looked like a man who had finally discovered that consequences were real.
He sat across from me.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he looked at me.
“I lied to you.”
I said nothing.
“I’ve lied to you for years.”
Still nothing.
“I want to tell you why.”
“Then tell me.”
He took a breath.
“When you got the fertility results, I was scared.”
I stared at him.
“You told me you loved me.”
“I did.”
“You told me we’d be okay.”
“I believed we’d be okay.”
“Then why did you start stealing money?”
His eyes dropped.
“Because I thought I was going to leave.”
There it was.
The sentence that had been hiding underneath everything.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted children.”
I felt something break inside me.
“You could have told me.”
“I was afraid.”
“You could have asked me about treatment.”
“I was afraid you’d think I was blaming you.”
“You could have divorced me honestly.”
“I didn’t want to lose everything.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I didn’t want to lose the house. The business. The lifestyle. My relationship with my family.”
“So you decided to keep me while planning your exit.”
He didn’t answer.
“Yes.”
His voice was barely audible.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
For years, I had thought betrayal began when someone crossed a physical boundary.
I realized then that betrayal often began much earlier.
It began when someone stopped treating you like a person whose life mattered.
Tanner continued.
“I met Bree before anything happened.”
“I know.”
“She knew about the fertility situation.”
“How?”
“She asked.”
I stared at him.
“She asked?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About a year before the pregnancy.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why would she ask?”
He looked at me.
“Because she wanted to know if you could have children.”
The room went silent.
I looked at Rosalind.
She had stopped writing.
“Why would my best friend need to know that?”
Tanner swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
That answer wasn’t good enough.
But then he said something worse.
“She told me she could give me the family I wanted.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What?”
“She said she wanted children too.”
“And you believed her?”
“I was stupid.”
“No,” I said.
He looked at me.
“You weren’t stupid.”
I leaned forward.
“You were selfish.”
He flinched.
“And she was selfish.”
I paused.
“But neither of you was confused.”
He lowered his head.
Then I asked the question that had been sitting in my mind since the baby shower.
“What was the plan?”
He looked at Rosalind.
She nodded.
“Tell her.”
Tanner took a long breath.
“We were going to wait until the baby was born.”
“For what?”
“For me to move out.”
“Where?”
He hesitated.
“Bree had an apartment lined up.”
My heart sank.
“An apartment?”
“Yes.”
“And the money?”
He looked away.
“The money was for a house.”
I laughed once.
It wasn’t a happy laugh.
“You were buying a house with my money.”
“Some of it was mine.”
“Some.”
He nodded.
“I earned it too.”
“And what were you going to tell everyone?”
“That we had grown apart.”
I stared at him.
“You were going to make me look like the reason.”
He didn’t answer.
I already knew.
Then Rosalind opened another folder.
“There is one thing we haven’t discussed.”
Tanner looked nervous.
She slid a document across the table.
“Do you recognize this?”
He looked at it.
His face changed.
It was a letter from a private medical records service.
It showed a request for access to my fertility records.
The request had been submitted electronically.
The authorization signature had been forged.
Tanner stared at it.
“I didn’t do that.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know.”
Rosalind pointed at the bottom.
“Look at the IP address.”
Tanner did.
His face went white.
“That’s from our house.”
I looked at him.
“You said you didn’t access my records.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
He looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
We left Rosalind’s office without another word.
That evening, I called Bree.
She answered after the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Did you access my medical records?”
Silence.
“Bree.”
She started crying.
“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
My entire body went cold.
“You did.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I was trying to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Whether you could have children.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why?”
She cried harder.
“Because Tanner told me you couldn’t.”
I opened my eyes.
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Before the affair?”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
“Bree, why did you need to know?”
She didn’t answer.
“Why?”
Finally, she whispered:
“Because I wanted what you had.”
I couldn’t speak.
“You had Tanner.”
“You had a home.”
“You had a stable life.”
“You had friends.”
“You had everything.”
I felt tears burn my eyes.
“So you decided to take it?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, I—”
“You decided that because you wanted my life, you were entitled to destroy it.”
She was silent.
Then she said:
“There was something else.”
I waited.
“The baby may not be Tanner’s.”
“I know.”
“I had been seeing Marcus.”
