A glass of bourbon sat beside him.
He looked up when I entered.
“We need to talk.”
I set my purse on the table.
“Yes.”
He exhaled as though relieved.
“First, Sabrina is unstable.”
I almost smiled.
“That’s your opening?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“She has been trying to push our relationship into something it wasn’t.”
I stared at him.
“Our relationship?”
“Mine and hers.”
“So there was a relationship.”
He looked irritated.
“Camille.”
“How long?”
He rubbed his temple.
“A few months.”
“Five?”
“Something like that.”
“Did you tell her you were divorced?”
Silence.
“Julian.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell her I lived in Richmond?”
“I panicked.”
“For five months?”
“I never expected it to go this far.”
I looked around the kitchen.
The same kitchen from the photograph.
My wedding picture sat near the pantry again.
He had apparently put it back.
I walked toward it.
Julian followed my eyes.
“I can explain that.”
“You removed this before sending her a picture.”
He said nothing.
I picked up the frame.
“Our wedding picture.”
“I know what it is.”
“You took it down.”
“Yes.”
“Then you told another woman I had moved away.”
He ran both hands through his hair.
“I made a terrible mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“Yes.”
“A mistake is sending a message to the wrong person.”
“I know.”
“You built an entire divorce.”
He froze.
That told me Sabrina had not warned him what she had shown me.
I watched his face.
“What divorce?”
I pulled out my phone.
“Should I show you?”
He didn’t answer.
“The fake decree?”
His face changed.
Not much.
But enough.
“Where did you get that?”
“Sabrina.”
