Seven days. In seven days I would leave this place for good—and leave him for good. I didn't spare a single glance at their stares. I set down my keys and walked out.
1
"Mom, Dad—I'm going to divorce Frederick."
"Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how good he is to you? Ungrateful wretch. You're not half as easy to deal with as Agatha."
Their insults poured through the phone without pause. When I couldn't take another second, I forwarded them the audio.
"You've known all along that Frederick was keeping Agatha. Haven't you."
Silence on the other end. I hung up without waiting for an answer and drove straight to a law firm to draft the divorce papers.
The day I found that photo of Frederick and Agatha, I'd also found stacks of round-trip flight itineraries—domestic and international—and receipts from luxury hotels I'd never set foot in.
I combed through every one of Agatha's social media accounts. A photo of them holding hands had been her profile banner all along.
There was even a shot of her in a wedding dress, flashing a diamond ring, kissing him full on the mouth. She hadn't even bothered to make it private.
Late that night, I called Frederick over and over. No one picked up.