Chapter 6 - What Chloe Knew
Chloe and I met again six weeks later.
Not as friends.
I don’t think either of us wanted to pretend the situation was noble.
She had participated in an affair.
I had every right to resent her.
But resentment did not require blindness.
Daniel had lied to her too.
And Evan had become collateral damage in a war he had never chosen.
Chloe had filed a paternity and child-support action.
Daniel’s response was astonishing.
He demanded another DNA test.
The same man who had privately celebrated Evan as his son now publicly claimed uncertainty.
Chloe showed me the filing.
“I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“No.”
“But I am.”
“That wears off.”
She gave me a tired smile.
“What?”
“Being surprised by him.”
We were sitting in a quiet café two blocks from Rebecca’s office.
Lily was with my mother.
Evan slept in a stroller beside Chloe.
“He wants me to sign something,” Chloe said.
“What?”
“A confidentiality agreement.”
I frowned.
“In exchange for what?”
“He said he’d voluntarily pay support above the guideline amount.”
There it was.
Silence for money.
Daniel’s favorite kind of arrangement.
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the agreement says I can’t provide documents in your divorce unless legally compelled.”
I stared at her.
“Rebecca needs to see it.”
“She already has it.”
Good.
Chloe stirred her coffee.
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
I waited.
“I met Daniel before the baptism.”
“I know.”
“No. I mean that morning.”
That got my attention.
“He came to my apartment at seven.”
“Why?”
“He wanted the original paternity report.”
My hands went still.
“He said?”
“He told me he was cleaning up loose ends.”
I felt cold.
“What loose ends?”
“I asked the same thing.”
Chloe looked ashamed.
“He said after the party he was going to tell you the marriage was over.”
“He planned to leave that day?”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed.
The arrogance of it was breathtaking.
He wanted me to pay $4,500 for his final performance as my husband.
Then he planned to leave.
Chloe continued.
“He said you’d be upset but eventually understand.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He also said the house would probably have to be sold.”
My eyes narrowed.
“And?”
“He said once everything was divided, he’d have enough for us to start fresh.”
Us.
Meaning Daniel.
Chloe.
Evan.
The future purchased partly with my money.
Then Chloe said, “I asked about Lily.”
I stopped breathing for a second.
“What did he say?”
Her eyes filled.
“He said babies adjust.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“He said he’d see her on weekends.”
My mouth went dry.
“He said you were a good mother, so he wasn’t worried.”
I turned toward the window.
For weeks, Daniel had claimed I was taking Lily from him.
He had accused me of destroying their bond.
Yet before the baptism, while I was still washing bottles and waking every two hours, Daniel had already reduced his daughter to weekends.
Not because someone forced him.
Because it was convenient.
Chloe whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I looked back at her.
“You knew he was leaving a newborn?”
“Yes.”
“And you were okay with that?”
Her face tightened.
“No.”
“But you stayed.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
I appreciated it anyway.
“I told myself he would be a good father to both.”
“People tell themselves useful things.”
“I know.”
We sat in silence.
Then Chloe reached into her bag.
“I brought something.”
It was an old phone.
“Daniel gave this to me.”
“Why?”
“He said our conversations should stay separate from our regular phones.”
Of course.
“He stopped using it after the baptism.”
She pushed it toward me.
“There are messages he deleted from my main phone.”
My heart began pounding.
“What kind of messages?”
“I don’t know all of them. I haven’t read everything.”
“Why not?”
“Because some things are easier to hand to a lawyer than to live through twice.”
Rebecca had the phone imaged professionally.
Three days later, she called me into her office.
Her expression was different.
Not triumphant.
Concerned.
“There’s a message you need to see.”
She turned the monitor.
Daniel had sent it to Chloe four months before Lily was born.
Once I get Jennifer to refinance, we’ll have room. She never looks at documents closely.
Chloe:
Room for what?
Daniel:
For our life.
Rebecca looked at me.
“He wasn’t improvising.”
No.
May you like
Daniel had been planning long before I found the first message.
And the $18,500 line of credit might have been only the beginning.
