His face tightened.
“You’re right.”
I hadn’t expected that.
I expected excuses.
“You’re right. I should have told you.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because if Camille was telling the truth, it meant my father had built our family on another lie. If she wasn’t, I didn’t want to drag you into it.”
“You don’t protect me by keeping me in the dark.”
“I know.”
There was no defensiveness.
That didn’t erase my anger.
It only made it harder to hold on to.
I pointed to one picture.
“The office building?”
“I was meeting an estate attorney.”
“The park?”
“Camille had just discovered her mother destroyed most of Dad’s letters.”
“The restaurant receipt?”
“Dinner with Camille and Evelyn.”
“And Vermont?”
“I went there for the DNA test.”
Every suspicious detail suddenly made sense.
That didn’t erase the secrecy.
“What trust were you looking into?” I asked.
Ethan unfolded one of the papers Lorraine had brought.
“How much?”
“We don’t know.”
“Your mother does.”
He looked at me.
That was when I finally understood why Lorraine had come.
She knew I’d confront him.
She wanted us fighting before he could finish uncovering the truth.
“She knew exactly who Camille was,” I said.
Ethan nodded.
“I think she did.”
“That sounds like her.”
I stood.
“Call her.”
“Right now?”
“She tried to use me to destroy our marriage. Yes.”
He dialed and put the phone on speaker.
“Why did you go to my house?”
Silence.
Then Lorraine answered.
“I was worried about your wife.”
“Is she there?”
“I am,” I said.
She sighed.
“I hoped she’d study the photographs before speaking to you.”
“So I’d accuse him before hearing the truth?”
“Camille is Dad’s daughter,” Ethan said.
The line went quiet.
Not surprised.
Caught.
We both heard it.
“You knew.”
“Your father made many mistakes.”
“She isn’t one of them.”
“I never said she was.”
“You told Ava you didn’t know who she was.”
“I’d never met her.”
Her tone softened.
It was a familiar strategy.
“You don’t know what this woman wants.”
“She wants the trust Dad created for her.”
“There is no trust.”
“I was protecting you.”
“From my sister?”
“From someone using grief and biology to manipulate you.”
Ethan looked at me.
The word biology hung in the air.
Lorraine was rejecting Camille because of where she came from.
“Did Dad leave money for her?” Ethan asked.
“I told you there isn’t a trust.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Another long silence.
“No.”
“Ethan, this is family business.”
“Ava is my family.”
“She’s your wife.”
“Exactly.”
When the call ended, Ethan stared at the dark screen.
I touched one of the photographs.
“She still thinks those are different things.”
The next morning we went together to Lorraine’s office.
Bennett Holdings occupied the top three floors of a downtown glass tower.
Two weeks before our wedding, Lorraine had invited me to lunch there.
She spent nearly an hour explaining what came with the Bennett name.
Charity boards.
Public appearances.
Elite schools.
Then she slid a prenuptial agreement across the table.
Ethan and I had already signed one with our own lawyers.
