Chapter 2: The Wednesday Alibi
I didn't scream. I didn't cry. A strange, freezing numbness washed over my entire body. I grabbed Leo by the sleeve of his jacket and marched him away from the lingering guests, pulling him into the small, dimly lit pastor’s office at the back of the funeral home. I slammed the heavy oak door shut and locked it.
"Start talking," I demanded, my voice dropping to a dangerous, hollow whisper. "How often did he see you?"
Leo swallowed hard, shrinking back against the bookshelf. "Every Wednesday," he answered quietly. "He would pick me up from school. We would go get burgers, and then he would help me with my math homework. Sometimes he came over on Saturday mornings to mow our lawn."
Every Wednesday.
The room spun. For fifteen years, Daniel had a standing "networking dinner" with clients every Wednesday evening. And Saturday mornings? Those were his "early morning golf rounds" with his boss. My mind raced back through decades of quiet dinners, shared coffees, and calm evenings on the couch. Every single one of those peaceful moments was built on a foundation of absolute, calculated deceit.
"Did he ever mention me?" I asked, a bitter, pathetic tear finally escaping my eye.
"Yes," Leo said softly, looking down at his worn-out sneakers. "He told me he loved you very much. He said you were his rock. But he said... he said he made a mistake a long time ago, and he was too much of a coward to break your heart. When my mom got sick last year, he promised her he wouldn't let me go into foster care. He was supposed to tell you everything this weekend."
This weekend.
The fight we had in the driveway. He wasn't arguing about repainting the fence. He was pacing. He was sweating. He was trying to find the courage to destroy our marriage, and the stress of his double life had literally stopped his heart before he could speak the words.
May you like
I unfolded the yellowed piece of notebook paper from the wallet. It was dated a week ago.
“Eleanor, if you are reading this, I am a dead man in more ways than one. I am so sorry. I am leaving you everything. The house, the savings, my pension. All of it is yours. I only ask for one final, unforgivable favor. Please, don’t punish Leo for my sins.”
