Chapter 7
“I really did love him,” she whispered.
I believed her.
That was the saddest part.
“I know.”
“I didn’t plan to say it at the wedding.”
“Would that have made everything else okay?”
“No.”
She wiped her cheek.
“He told me he was going to leave you after the acquisition.”
Reid turned sharply.
“Camille.”
She looked at him.
Something passed between them.
Then she laughed bitterly.
“You weren’t, were you?”
He didn’t answer.
Camille stared at him.
And for the first time, she understood.
She hadn’t won.
There had never been a competition.
Reid had wanted both of us for different reasons.
My family’s capital.
My credibility.
My shares.
Her secrecy.
Her company.
Her loyalty.
He had mistaken two women loving him for proof that he was powerful.
In reality, he had simply found two people willing to trust him.
Until now.
Camille picked up her bag.
At the door, she looked back at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I thought about eleven years of friendship.
Then I thought about my bouquet in her hands.
“You should be.”
She left.
Reid stayed.
“Nora, please.”
Everyone else began gathering their documents.
“I need five minutes with my wife.”
I looked at him.
“Ex-wife.”
“We’re still legally married.”
“Then enjoy the technicality while it lasts.”
Dad almost smiled.
Reid stepped toward me.
“I made mistakes.”
“Mistakes are forgetting an anniversary.”
“I panicked.”
“You forged my approval.”
“I didn’t.”
“You tried to remove me from the board.”
“I was trying to protect the company.”
“From me?”
“From your father.”
“No, Reid. You were trying to protect yourself from accountability.”
He lowered his voice.
“We can fix this.”
“No.”
“You loved me yesterday.”
That one landed.
Because he was right.
Yesterday morning, I had loved him.
Yesterday morning, I had stood in front of a mirror while Camille fastened my dress and thought I was the luckiest woman in Boston.
Yesterday morning, I would have defended both of them against anyone.
But love does not survive every truth.
Sometimes the truth arrives all at once and kills it cleanly.
“I loved the man I thought you were,” I said.
“I am that man.”
“No. That man never existed.”
I walked past him.
He caught my arm.
Dad stood instantly.
I didn’t need him.
I looked down at Reid’s hand.
“Take your hand off me.”
He did.
Immediately.
I walked out.
The forensic audit lasted eleven weeks.