Ryan said nothing.
Elaine looked at Marlene.
“Was I wrong?”
Marlene hesitated.
“Not entirely.”
That landed harder than shouting would have.
Elaine pulled out a chair and sat.
“Tell me.”
Marlene opened another section of the folder.
Several cash withdrawals matched transactions from gambling-related venues and online payment processors Ryan had previously been told to avoid.
Other transfers had gone toward the apartment and hotel expenses.
He had been funding two secrets at once.
The affair had given him somewhere to disappear.
The gambling had given him another reason to move money where I would not immediately see it.
And each secret had helped conceal the other.
Ryan started talking quickly.
He said the gambling had started small.
He said he had been under pressure.
He said the apartment was not what it looked like.
Then he said Lauren had pushed for it.
Lauren stared at him.
“You told me you were leaving Emma.”
“I said I was thinking about it.”
“You said your marriage was already over.”
I watched her face change as she realized that the man who had lied to his wife had also lied to his mistress.
She looked at me.
“Emma, he told me you two barely spoke anymore.”
I thought of Tuesday dinners.
The movie we had watched on our couch four nights earlier.
Ryan kissing my forehead before bed and asking whether I wanted to visit the coast next month.
“We spoke,” I said.
Lauren’s eyes dropped.
“He said you knew there were problems.”
“I knew there were problems.
I didn’t know one of them had my house code.”
She flinched.
Ryan paced toward the living room.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
Elaine’s head turned.
“Don’t tell your wife to calm down.”
He stopped.
It was the first time all morning anyone had raised their voice, and it came from the person he had clearly expected to protect him.
“Mom—”
“You let me believe you had beaten this years ago.
You let Emma marry you without knowing what we had covered for you.
Then you started moving money again, and while we were trying to find out whether you were gambling, you were paying for an apartment with her best friend?”
Ryan’s shoulders tightened.
“It wasn’t all from Emma’s money.”
I looked at the records.
“That’s your defense?”
“I’m saying you aren’t telling the whole story.”
“Then tell it.”
He stared at me.
I waited.
For seven years, I had rushed to fill silences because silence made Ryan uncomfortable.
I had apologized when he withdrew.
