Chapter 8 - The Desperate Apology in the Rain
I looked through the gap in the door at the woman who had shared my bed for seven years. A week ago, I would have thrown the door wide open, wrapped her in a warm blanket, made her hot tea, and stayed awake all night comforting her. I would have blamed myself for her pain, wondering what I had failed to provide that drove her to such desperation.
But standing there now, all I saw was the woman who had walked into this very foyer six days ago with a smirk on her face, telling me I should be thankful she returned at all.
""You had forty-five thousand dollars of our savings, Rachel,"" I said, my voice barely louder than the rain. ""Where did it go?""
Rachel looked down at her soaked sneakers, her shoulders shaking violently. ""Greg took the account keys. He transferred thirty thousand into an offshore retainer for his criminal defense lawyer before Sarah froze the domestic accounts. The rest was eaten up by non-refundable deposits on the Aspen suite and the private charter flight.""
""A private charter flight,"" I repeated, feeling the cold absurdity of it wash over me. ""While I was driving my ten-year-old truck through gravel ditches in the middle of the night, calling county coroners to ask if they had identified female remains matching your height.""
""I was stupid! I was arrogant!"" she screamed into the rain, dropping to her knees on the cold concrete porch. ""I thought I was smarter than everyone! I thought I could have the excitement and the money, and then walk back into our quiet life whenever I wanted! I took you for granted, Ethan! I know that now! I know you were the best thing that ever happened to me!""
She pressed her forehead against the wood of the door, weeping openly, her dignity shattered into dust.
""You didn't realize that when you walked through this door on Tuesday,"" I said. ""You only realized it when Greg threw you to the wolves and the money ran out. If Greg had stayed loyal to you, if the merger had gone through, you wouldn't be crying on this porch right now. You would be serving me with eviction papers from a penthouse in Cherry Creek.""
Rachel didn't deny it. Her sobs turned into ragged, choking gasps. She knew it was the absolute truth.
""I called your sister Claire twenty minutes ago,"" I said, opening the door slightly wider to slide a folded piece of paper and an envelope through the opening. ""She agreed to let you stay in her spare room in Fort Collins, on the condition that you enter intensive outpatient therapy and sign the full divorce agreement without contesting a single clause.""
Rachel looked up, blinking through her tears at the envelope lying on the wet mat. Inside was fifty dollars in cash—enough for a full tank of gas—and the address to Claire’s house.
""Claire answered your call?"" Rachel asked in disbelief.
""Claire loves you enough to keep you off the street, even when she despises what you did,"" I replied. ""Take the gas money. Drive north to Fort Collins. Sign the uncontested papers that David Martinez will email your temporary counsel tomorrow morning. If you do that, I will instruct David not to pursue civil punitive damages against your future earnings.""
Rachel reached out with a trembling, rain-soaked hand and picked up the envelope. She looked at me through the dim light of the entryway, realizing that this was the final act of mercy she would ever receive from the man she had betrayed.
""Will you ever forgive me?"" she whispered, her voice cracking.
May you like
""Forgiveness is something you need to work out with yourself and your family,"" I said softly. ""As far as I'm concerned, Ethan and Rachel Cole ended the morning you decided my grief didn't matter. Drive safe, Rachel. Watch out for the slick roads on the highway.""
I pulled the heavy front door shut and turned the deadbolt until it clicked firmly into place.
