His face went still.
“What is this?”
“You know.”
“You already filed?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Today.”
He stared at me.
“You came home yesterday.”
“Correct.”
“You didn’t even talk to me.”
I laughed.
“You had four years.”
That silenced him.
“There are temporary financial restrictions.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t move money.”
“You don’t sell property.”
“You don’t refinance anything.”
“You don’t create another company with marital funds.”
His face hardened.
“You froze me out?”
“I protected what’s left.”
“Sariah.”
“No.”
He stood.
“We need to talk about Mara and the kids.”
I stared at him.
“Kids?”
His face changed.
He had said too much.
“The baby.”
I waited.
He looked down.
“How many?”
Silence.
“Corbin.”
He rubbed his face.
“Two.”
My body went cold.
“What?”
“Mara is pregnant with twins.”
I sat down.
Not because twins changed the betrayal.
Because the scale of his second life suddenly became enormous.
Theo.
Twin babies coming.
A condo.
A family structure.
Four years.
And somewhere in all of that, he had still been planning my return.
“What was going to happen Wednesday?”
He looked at me.
“When I was supposed to land?”
No answer.
“Were you going to pick me up?”
“Yes.”
“Then take me home?”
“Yes.”
“To our condo?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
He sat.
“I was going to tell you.”
