But my father had specifically asked me to be patient so that we could catch them both in the trap. “Sure, Lydia, I would love to see you for coffee,” I replied with a shaking hand. We met at a small, trendy cafe in a quiet neighborhood where the trees provided plenty of shade.
Lydia arrived wearing a loose fitting sundress and carrying a large designer bag across her stomach to hide her shape. She looked a bit pale and she seemed nervous as she leaned in to hug me far too tightly. “I have really missed our little chats,” she said with a smile that did not reach her eyes.
I forced myself to smile back and told her that I had missed her as well. For twenty minutes, she talked about absolute nonsense like television shows and her boring job. Then, without even realizing what she was doing, she placed her hand protectively over her stomach.
My gaze fell directly onto her hand and she immediately pulled it away as if she had been burned. “Are you feeling sick today, Lydia?” I asked with a tone of mock concern. She turned incredibly white and began to fumble with the strap of her expensive handbag.
“No, I am fine, it is just a bit of morning sickness from some bad breakfast I ate,” she lied. The lie burned me much more than the original betrayal ever could have. When we left the cafe, I watched her walk to the corner and get into the passenger seat of Mark’s car.
He did not even wait for me to drive away before he pulled up to pick her up. I took a clear photo of them together with my phone and sent it directly to Robert and my father. Monday arrived slowly like a tragedy that everyone sees coming but no one can stop.
Mark put on his most expensive blue suit and sprayed himself with a heavy layer of cologne. He kissed my cheek and told me that today was the day our lives would change forever. “Yes, Mark, I am absolutely certain that our lives will never be the same after today,” I replied.
He smiled at me because he did not understand the true meaning behind my words. An hour later, my father sent me a short message telling me that Mark had arrived at the office. “He is in the boardroom now, so come in when you hear the recording start to play,” the message said.
I was waiting in an adjoining room behind a sheet of dark glass where I could see everything. I watched my husband sit down with a look of pure arrogance in front of the lawyers and the auditors. Mark was still smiling until my father placed the first thick folder of evidence on the mahogany table.
