Page 120 of Dissection of a Murder
I shrug my shoulders and laugh.
“Well, it’s either his…oryours.”
It doesn’t happen often. In fact, I don’t think it ever has before now, but Julian Kesler has nothing to say.
Nothing.
He takes a few seconds to recalibrate, aware he needs to talk his way out of this very carefully.
“Jesus Christ, Leila!” He fake-laughs. “Your paranoia is something else! I’m sleeping with Chester’s wife now?”
“It’d be easier if you just admitted it. Don’t make me get the evidence out.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“OK.” I sigh. “I’ll show you.”
I get my phone from my bag and open the photos app. Scrolling through, I select the screenshots I airdropped from Demi’s WhatsApp chat straight to mine, which had been safely in my handbag the whole night, not at Audrey’s. Theatrically clearing my throat before I begin, I read them out, occasionally looking up at him—my husband—who is grasping for something,anything, to say in this moment.
I wasn’t stupid enough to leave this up to chance; I took ascreenshot of the number beside the messages he sent. He’d obviously removed her as a contact to communicate to her, rather brutally, that it was over. A common tactic he used to employ back when he was single, before we started dating.
“Did you think I wouldn’t work it out?” I ask.
Even now, with his wife calling out his infidelity, I can tell Julian is thinking what a massive inconvenience this is, for me to accuse him the night he has to write the best closing speech of his career.
Let’s be honest, neither of us has time for this bullshit.
“It was nothing,” he says robotically.
“Nothing?” I parrot back to him, just to ensure I’ve heard correctly. “Is that what you’d really call this? Nothing?”
“After six years, Leila? Really?” he asks, his tone aggressive. “You’re prepared to throw our marriage away over this? I don’t want anything to do with her.”
My mind plays back to the time I came downstairs and heard him on the phone.
“That’s who you were talking to that night, isn’t it? I heard you, in the kitchen.”
“I’ve made it very clear to Demi that it’s over. I don’t love her. I feel nothing for her, and she can’t prove the kid’s mine anyway.”
“It’s irrelevant whether you love her or not and, trust me, Julian, if she says it’s yours, it will be,” I say firmly. I’m not exactly Demi’s biggest fan in this moment, but his insistence on simply discarding her—the woman carrying his child—makes me sick. “Tell me, Julian, what was it I didn’t do? Because I think I’ve been a pretty good wife.”
“Jesus, Leila!” he shouts, raising his arms into the air, exasperated. “It had nothing to do with you! It was a mistake.Shewas a mistake.”
No sincere apology, no begging for forgiveness, no remorse. The entire thing is a chore for him. He’s never taken accountability for anything in his life.
“And now you’re going to pay for it. I wonder if your divorce solicitor will do you a ‘Buy One Get One Free’ deal.”
My body reacts as I say it. My hands start shaking and a lead weight lands in my stomach. Adrenaline shoots through my veins at lightning speed.
Julian looks at me, confused. I know what he’s doing, making me feel I’m overreacting. He’s good at this.
“Why do we have to get divorced?” Julian asks in a quiet voice, frowning at me as if I’ve said the most nonsensical thing in the world.
I swallow hard. My heart races.
“You must be joking,” I reply calmly.
“Nobody needs to know.”
