Standing on my porch were Helen, Greg’s mother, wrapped in her gray wool coat, and a tall woman in a navy blazer holding a leather folder. I stepped aside, and they walked past me into the living room. Helen did not take off her coat. She looked at her son, then at Lydia sitting inches from him, and her voice came out low and shaking. “Gregory, tell me this is not what I think it is.”
The woman in the blazer introduced herself as Diane Rivera, my attorney. Marcus rose slowly from his chair, staring at the floor. Lydia’s face had gone the color of paper. “Before anyone leaves this house,” Diane said, opening the folder, “everyone here should look at the first page.” She laid it on the coffee table, and Greg read it, and his hands began to shake.
The page was a bank statement. The morning after my call with Lydia, I had found Greg’s old tablet in the hall closet, still signed into his messages. One sleepless night of reading told me everything. He and Lydia had been seeing each other for eleven months. The swap was a cover story, meant to make the affair look harmless, so that when Greg moved out I would blame no one. The statement showed sixty thousand dollars moved from our joint savings into an account only he could reach.
I never confronted Greg. On Friday afternoon I made two phone calls. The first was to Diane, who prepared divorce papers and a full record of the missing money. The second was to Marcus, who had no idea. Lydia had told him it was a harmless reset for both marriages, and he had agreed only because he wanted to save his own. He listened to the messages in silence and asked me to say nothing until tonight. That was why he looked so uncomfortable when he arrived.
The small surprise was Helen. Diane had gone to see her that afternoon and shown her the same messages, and Helen had insisted on coming. Greg tried to speak. “It was a mistake. We can fix this.” Helen shook her head. “You lied to your wife and to your mother for almost a year.” Lydia whispered that she was sorry, but Marcus did not look at her. He lifted her overnight bag and set it by the door.
Greg’s suitcase was already waiting, and I had changed the locks that afternoon. Diane handed him the divorce papers and the accounting of the missing sixty thousand dollars, with a deadline for repayment. Marcus left with a quiet goodbye and filed for divorce the next week. Greg moved into a rented room and repaid the money within the month to avoid court. Helen stayed for dinner, and she still holds my hand across the table. For the first time in twenty-one years, I felt like myself.
