Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO HATEI did not answer Lauren immediately.
Every instinct told me not to trust her.
Then I remembered that Carter had benefited whenever two women refused to compare information.
I wrote:
What did he tell you?
Her reply came three minutes later.
That you had been separated since January.
I read it several times.
Carter and I had gone to Napa in February for our anniversary.
There were photographs.
Restaurant reservations.
A hotel charge.
We had slept in the same bed the night before his supposed Sacramento conference.
I typed:
We have never been separated.
Nothing came back for nearly ten minutes.
Then:
Can we talk tomorrow with attorneys if necessary? I don’t want to say something that causes a problem for your business.
That message was more cautious than I expected.
I forwarded it to my family attorney.
She advised me I could speak to Lauren but should avoid threats, promises, or discussions designed to coordinate stories.
So the next afternoon Lauren and I met in the presence of neither Carter nor his family.
Public café.
Separate checks.
She was thirty-four.
Not glamorous.
Not smug.
Not remotely like the woman Helen’s behavior had encouraged me to imagine.
She was visibly pregnant.
I hated how much seeing that hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I held up my hand.
“I don’t know what you’re sorry for yet.”
She nodded.
Fair.
Then she told me.
Carter contacted her fourteen months earlier.
At first, friendly messages.
Her father had died.
Carter sent condolences.
They dated for three years in their twenties and had remained loosely connected through mutual friends.
Then he told her our marriage was collapsing.
“He said you barely spoke anymore.”
I almost laughed.
We spoke constantly.
Apparently conversation and truth were different things.
“He told me you were staying together while you separated the business.”
“When?”
“January.”
There was the first clue.
January was when Carter convinced me to give him complete control over Clementine’s vendor approvals because I was overwhelmed preparing for a major hotel contract.
Second clue:
He started attending “family dinners” without me around the same time.
Third:
Helen stopped inviting me directly.
Lauren continued.
“I asked him if you knew we were talking.”
“What did he say?”
“That you didn’t care.”
I looked out the window.
“And Helen?”
Lauren lowered her eyes.
“She knew.”
“How much?”
“She told me your marriage was over.”
The room seemed smaller.
“She told you herself?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“March.”
“Where?”
“At her house.”
Helen had not simply known.
She had helped validate the lie.
Richard had been there for some dinners but apparently believed Lauren was simply reconnecting with the family after her father’s death.
Lauren said the relationship with Carter became physical in April.
The pregnancy was not planned.
She had considered ending it.
Carter begged her not to.
Helen did too.
“Why?”
Lauren looked embarrassed.
“Helen wants a grandchild.”
I closed my eyes.
Carter and I had lost a pregnancy eighteen months earlier.
Ten weeks.
Early enough that people called it common.
Late enough that I had already pictured a nursery.
Afterward, I wanted time.
Carter wanted to start trying again almost immediately.
We argued.
I told him I did not know if I ever wanted to go through that fear again.
Helen knew.
She had asked me twice when we were “getting back on track.”
The implication had made me furious.
Now I understood how much she had resented my uncertainty.
Lauren touched her water glass.
“I didn’t know about your miscarriage until last week.”
I looked at her.
“Who told you?”
“Richard.”
That surprised me.
“He called me after the dinner.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to know what Carter had told me.”
So Richard was comparing stories too.
Finally.
I asked about Larkspur.
Lauren looked confused.
“My company?”
“Yes.”
“Carter paid several invoices.”
“For what?”
“I did some social media work.”
“How much?”
“Maybe nine thousand total.”
My breathing stopped for a second.
“Clementine paid you thirty-seven eight.”
Lauren stared at me.
“No.”
I showed her the payments.
Her face changed.
“These aren’t all mine.”
“Same company.”
“Yes, but…”
She opened her laptop.
Her business account showed only $9,450 from Clementine.
The rest had gone somewhere else.
Same vendor name.
Different routing information.
May you like
Carter had used Lauren’s company as camouflage.
And whatever he had done with the other twenty-eight thousand dollars, even his pregnant ex did not know.
Related Stories
