Page 162 of Sin

“Then we proceed accordingly.”

The calm in his voice irritates me more than it should. I want someone else to be furious. I want the whole world to understand that Laurel has already paid more than enough for my cowardice.

Richard continues, “There’s something else.”

Of course there is. My life has become a gift basket of consequences.

“What?”

“We received documentation from an anonymous source.”

“What kind of documentation?”

“Hotel records. Photos. Messages.”

My pulse slows. “Of me and Laurel?”

“No,” he says. “Of Jenna.”

The room goes quiet. Even Wilder stops chewing.

I turn slightly. “What did you say?”

“She had an affair three years ago.”

For a second, I don’t understand the sentence. Not because the words are complicated. Because my body doesn’t react the way it should. No rage. No jealousy. No betrayal clawing up my throat. Just a dull, distant sense of recognition. Like someone confirmed an appointment I forgot I made.

“With who?” I ask.

“A man named Aaron Valley. Clearly no relation to her mother’s side, despite the last name. He worked with one of the charities she was involved in. It appears to have lasted approximately six months, and they still keep in touch.”

I should feel something. I wait for it, but nothing comes.

“So she cheated, too,” I say.

“Yes.”

I look at my reflection in the glass. The man staring back looks tired. Older. Hollowed out.

“If anything, I’m relieved,” I say quietly.

Relieved because it means Jenna and I were over long before Laurel. Because it means I wasn’t the only one burying myself in someone else to avoid looking at the empty space between us. It doesn’t excuse me or absolve me. It doesn’t undo what I did with Laurel. But it makes one thing painfully clear.

My marriage didn’t die in Amsterdam. It died years ago, and Jenna and I took turns pretending not to see the body.

“Can we use it?” I ask.

“Yes,” Richard says. “It gives us leverage. The kind that helps settle without turning this into mutually assured destruction.”

“Use it quietly.”

“That was my recommendation.”

“I won’t make a public statement about it.”

“Good.”

“I don’t want to hurt her like that.”