Chapter 2

2 He stayed silent for about twenty seconds.

“What university? That’s… that’s just a friend from school. I owed him some money.”

“Is your friend’s name Lexi?” I opened my own phone and slid a photo across the table―a grainy shot my investigator took outside the campus gates. “Is your friend five-foot-four, nineteen years old, with long blonde hair and a cream-colored puffer jacket? Does your friend major in dance?”

His lips trembled.

“When did you―”

“Traffic on our anniversary? Or were you just busy picking up your ‘friend’ from her dorm?”

Silas went quiet. He bowed his head, staring at the pattern on the tablecloth. This was his go-to move when pressured―shut down, don't explain, and wait for the other person to stop being angry.

I had waited three years for this moment.

“Don’t bother explaining,” I said, closing my clutch. “We’ll talk at home.”

When I came out of the restroom, Silas was at the end of the hallway on his phone.

The hallway at The Blue Veranda is long with sharp corners, making the acoustics very clear. I stood behind the turn and hit the record button on my phone.

“…She found out.”

I couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but Silas was loud and clear.

“Don’t panic, she has no real proof. She saw you in the car, so what? I’ll just say I was giving a friend a ride. How can she argue with that?”

“She checked the transfers.”

The voice on the other end chirped something.

“I’m not an idiot. I marked every transfer as ‘loan repayment.’ Even in civil court, that’s a valid defense.”

“…She’s just a lawyer. Lawyers lose cases all the time.”

I leaned against the wall, gripping my phone tighter.

“Lexi, listen to me. She’s obsessed with evidence and logic. Unless she catches us in bed, she can't do anything to me. Just go to class. I’ll figure out the money.”

“…She’s six years older than me. She’s the one who forced this relationship back then. How old was I? Nineteen, a freshman. She was twenty-six and my instructor. You think it’s normal for a teacher to date her student?”

“…I don’t owe her anything. All these years, I’ve felt like a shadow next to her. She controls everything―what I wear, what I spend, who I hang out with. Do you know what that feels like? I’m always the student in her eyes. I’m never good enough.”

“It’s different with you. You make me feel like a real man.”

I turned off the recording.

I wasn’t heartbroken―I was validated. I had confirmed that this man wasn't worth another second of the seven years I gave him.

Three days later, I met Caleb for lunch.

Caleb was Silas’s college roommate and his best friend. He was also a junior associate at my firm―my subordinate.

“Caleb, do you know Lexi Xu?”

His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

“Gwen… I mean, Mrs. Miller…”

“Just eat. Don't be nervous.”

He put his fork down. “Why are you asking?”

“Why are you sweating?” I poured him some tea. “Just tell the truth. Your performance review is in two months. Think about your career.”

Beads of sweat formed on Caleb’s forehead.

“I know her.”

“When did it start?”

“January. He was already… deep in it by April. She’s a student at the arts college. They met at a convention. Silas was doing signatures, and she was a cosplayer.”

“Go on.”

Caleb swallowed hard. “Over the summer… she didn't go home. He rented an apartment for her near campus. Last month, he was looking at cars. He wanted to buy her a Mini Cooper.”

“Two hundred and eighty-three thousand dollars,” I said, putting my cup down. “That’s what I found in transfers. Was there cash?”

“…Yeah. Around the holidays, he borrowed twenty grand from me. Said it was for a bag for her.”

“And you lent it to him.”

“I didn't know it was for a mistress!” Caleb’s face turned bright red. “He told me it was an anniversary gift for you!”

“It’s fine. How much did you lend him total?”

“Just the twenty.”

“Since you’re being honest, I won't block your promotion.”

Caleb stared at me in shock.

“Gwen, aren't you… furious?”

“I am. But fury isn't evidence. I need screenshots of your chats―the ones where he borrowed the money and everything he said about her.”

Caleb paused.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“When did you first suspect him?”

“March. The first time he changed his password.”

Caleb sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’ve been holding this in for eight months?”

“Holding it?” I let out a soft laugh. “No. I was building a case. The most expensive thing in this world isn't love; it’s time. He owes me seven years of my life. I intend to make sure the bill is settled in full.”