Chapter 14 - His Last Chance to Tell the Truth
The final settlement conference took place in September.
Nine months after Christmas.
Thaddius sat across from me.
No Cordelia.
No parents.
No chandelier.
Just lawyers, paper cups of coffee, and the fluorescent light of a downtown conference room.
His side had secured refinancing on the house.
Our attorneys had negotiated allocation of the home-equity obligation.
Thaddius agreed to assume substantially more of that debt because the funds had gone into his family investment entity after he misrepresented their intended use to me.
Nobody called it punishment.
It was financial responsibility attached to documented decisions.
Before we finalized the remaining terms, Thaddius asked to speak.
“I owe Sara an explanation.”
Meredith looked at me.
I nodded.
Thaddius folded his hands.
“I knew Marlowe was failing.”
He swallowed.
“Not the building. The financing.”
He had believed one strong leasing quarter would repair the cash flow.
He believed Cordelia only needed time.
He believed the family assets would recover.
He believed I would forgive the home-equity lie once the money came back.
Every bad decision required the next one.
“And my father?”
Thaddius looked ashamed.
“I thought everybody had a number.”
I almost laughed.
“That’s what you thought of him?”
“That’s what I thought of people.”
He looked toward the window.
“Including you.”
That was the closest thing to complete honesty I had heard from him.
“You thought I had a number too.”
“I thought your number was the marriage.”
My throat tightened.
“Meaning?”
“I thought you’d tolerate almost anything before you’d leave.”
There it was.
He had mistaken commitment for captivity.
“Why didn’t you stop Cordelia at Christmas?”
His eyes filled.
“Because if I defended George, I had to admit she lied about him.”
“And then?”
“Then people would ask why.”
“And eventually they’d find Marlowe.”
He nodded.
The slap had lasted one second.
His decision not to stop what followed had been months in the making.
Thaddius signed the settlement framework.
So did I.
The divorce would not be final that afternoon. Illinois procedure still required completion of the remaining filings and court approval.
But the central decisions were made.
Outside the conference room, Thaddius called after me.
“Sara.”
I turned.
“Cordelia wants to apologize.”
“Why?”
“Because the company review is almost finished.”
“That’s not a reason to apologize.”
He looked down.
“No.”
“When she has another reason, she knows how to find me.”
I walked toward the elevator.
May you like
Thaddius did not follow.
Behind me, the conference-room door closed on the last opportunity either of us had to pretend the marriage might return to what it was.
