Three days later, he showed Abigail photographs.
Ruth and the man. Derek Harris.
At restaurants. In his car. Leaving his building. Laughing together. Leaning too close.
Michael also learned that money had been moving steadily from his joint accounts with Ruth. Small transfers. Not enough to draw immediate attention, but enough to add up. Enough to show intention.
Mr. Collins placed the evidence on Michael’s desk and said the affair had been going on for at least eight months.
Eight months.
Michael had been in the wheelchair for seven.
That meant the betrayal had started before, or right around the accident.
While he lay in a hospital bed trying to understand his new life, Ruth had already been building another one behind his back.
Michael did not shout. He did not break anything. He did what men like him do when the truth is unbearable.
He made decisions.
“Draw up the papers,” he told Mr. Collins. “And she leaves the house.”
But before those papers could be served, Ruth made her own move.
She began treating Abigail differently.
More warmly.
Too warmly.
