Looking at her, you would never know that her husband drove a jet-black Mercedes and had a regular Tuesday tee-time at the Broadmoor Golf Course. May probably hadn’t spent money on herself in years. Not since she’d slaved at a local restaurant to put her husband through dental school. Though she was only a few years older than Meghann, sadness had left its mark on May. There were shadowy circles under her eyes.
“Please, May, sit down. ”
May jerked forward like a marionette who’d been moved by someone else. She sat in one of the comfortable black suede chairs.
Meghann took her usual seat at the head of the table. Spread out in front of her were several manila file folders with bright pink Post-it notes fanned along the edges of the paperwork. Meghann drummed her fingertips on the stack of papers, wondering which of her many approaches would be best. Over the years, she’d learned that there were as many reactions to bad news as there were indiscretions themselves. Instinct warned her that May Monroe was fragile, that while she was in the midst of breaking up her marriage, she hadn’t fully accepted the inevitable. Although the divorce papers had been filed months ago, May still didn’t believe her husband would go through with it.
After this meeting, she’d believe it.
Meghann looked at her. “As I told you at our last meeting, May, I hired a private investigator to check into your husband’s financial affairs. ”
“It was a waste of time, right?”
No matter how often this scene played and replayed itself in this office, it never got any easier. “Not exactly. ”
May stared at her for a long moment, then she stood up and went to the silver coffee service set out on the cherry wood credenza. “I see,” she said, keeping her back to Meghann. “What did you find out?”
“He has more than six hundred thousand dollars in an account in the Cayman Islands, which is under his own name. Seven months ago, he took almost all of the equity out of your home. Perhaps you thought you were signing refinance documents?”
May turned around. She was holding a coffee cup and saucer. The porcelain chattered in her shaking hands as she moved toward the conference table. “The rates had come down. ”
“What came down was the cash. Right into his hands. ”
“Oh my,” she whispered.
Meghann could see May’s world crumbling. It flashed through the woman’s green eyes; a light seemed to go out of her.
It was a moment so many women faced at a time like this: the realization that their husbands were strangers and that their dreams were just that.
“It gets worse,” Meghann went on, trying to be gentle with her words, but knowing how deep a cut she’d leave behind. “He sold the practice to his partner, Theodore Blevin, for a dollar. ”
“Why would he do that? It’s worth—”
“So you wouldn’t be able to get the half you’re entitled to. ”
At that, May’s legs seemed to give out on her. She crumpled into her chair. The cup and saucer hit the table with a clatter. Coffee burped over the porcelain rim and puddled on the wood. May immediately started dabbing the mess with her napkin. “I’m sorry. ”
Meghann touched her client’s wrist. “Don’t be. ” She got up, grabbed some napkins, and blotted the spill. “I’m the one who’s sorry, May. No matter how often I see this sort of behavior, it still sickens me. ” She touched May’s shoulder and let the woman have time to think.
“Do any of those documents say why he did this to me?”
Meghann wished she didn’t have an answer to that. A question was sometimes preferable to an answer. She reached into the file and pulled out a black-and-white photograph. Very gently, as if it were printed on a sheet of plastique explosives instead of glossy paper, she pushed it toward May. “Her name is Ashleigh. ”
“Ashleigh Stoker. I guess I know why he always offered to pick Sarah up from piano lessons. ”
Meghann nodded. It was always worse when the wife knew the mistress, even in passing. “Washington is a no-fault state; we don’t need grounds for a divorce, so his affair doesn’t matter. ”
May looked up. She wore the vague, glassy-eyed expression of an accident victim. “It doesn’t matter?” She closed her eyes. “I’m an idiot. ” The words were more breath than sound.
“No. You’re an honest, trustworthy woman who put a selfish prick through ten years of college so he could have a better life. ”
“It was supposed to be our better life. ”
“Of course it was. ”
Meg reached out, touched May’s hand. “You trusted a man who told you he loved you. Now he’s counting on you to be good ole accommodating May, the woman who puts her family first and makes life easy for Dr. Dale Monroe. ”
May looked confused by that, maybe even a little frightened. Meghann understood; women like May had forgotten a long time ago how to make waves.