Chapter 3

For those two weeks on the trip, Spencer kept a careful distance. We shared a suite, but he never stepped out of line, not even by accident.

He held doors open for me, fended off pushy drink offers at dinners, and the second a client talked down to me? He dropped them without hesitation.

…

On the flight home, I was slumped in my airplane seat when Spencer handed me a cup of water.

"You must be exhausted," he said.

I took it and saw a text from Reuben on my phone. "How was the trip, honey? I reserved a table at the restaurant where we celebrated our anniversary to welcome you home."

I thought he might still care about me.

I went directly to the restaurant from the airport, only to find out he'd already gone. A wave of confusion washed over me. My mind started racing.

Had something happened? Was he sick? Or had work pulled him away?

My heart lodged in my throat, but I swallowed hard and steadied myself. I pulled up the family tracker and saw him at some bar.

When I walked in, Reuben was face-down on the table, barely conscious. "Sweetheart?"

I hauled him upright and patted his cheek gently.

His eyes cracked open, glassy and slow, and the second they landed on me, he threw his arms around me. "Lissy, I'm finished!"

Every slurred word that followed felt like another weight dragging me under.

Reuben didn't bother with background checks for his project and immediately sent the 30% deposit straight through. Next thing he knew, five million dollars had vanished.

The sum might as well have been a billion for all it mattered to us. With the house and car loans still unpaid, liquidating everything we had wouldn't scrape together two million dollars.

"We need to call the police," I said.

"No!" He gripped my shoulders, his voice raw with panic. "I'm ruined if the police get involved—my career, my name, all of it! Lissy, please, you're the only one who can fix this."

His bloodshot eyes were so full of desperation that it gave me chills.

"Mr. Joplin will definitely help me with the money if you spend the night with him."

I slapped him, hard enough to be heard over the noise in the bar. My hand was shaking as I lowered it, and I looked at Reuben like I didn't even recognize him.

"Reuben, have you lost your damn mind?" My voice wavered. "I'm your wife!"

He sank to his knees and clutched my legs. "Lissy, please. I'm begging you. Just this once."

I closed my eyes, tears spilling down my cheeks.

Then, Spencer's voice came back to me. "I bet Reuben will send you to my bed himself."

I pushed Reuben's hands off, but he seized my legs again, tears streaking his face. His voice came out in a frantic, breathless rush. "It's only once, Lissy. Mr. Joplin swore he wouldn't do anything to you. Please."

I took a moment to steady myself, my head still spinning from the rush of emotions.

I drew a deep breath and reminded myself that Reuben was just shaken by everything that had happened. Once he sobered up, he'd stop being irrational, and we could work things out.

Even though my heart had gone cold, I still chose to fool myself.

I forced my voice to stay even, speaking slower than usual. "Reuben, I can't do this. I'm not some bargaining chip for you to play with. Think about what you're saying."

Then, I pried his hands off me and stood up.

Reuben just sat there, staring blankly, mumbling something under his breath. I ignored him and headed for the door.

I was about to leave the bar when he caught up and took my hand, guilt written all over his face.

"Honey, I was way out of line back there. I wasn't thinking straight. We haven't been to a bar together since the wedding. Why don't we just stay and unwind a little?"

He looked at me with eyes full of pleading, like a sad puppy.

I stood still, silently looking at him.

Reuben quickly added, "I won't bring up you entertaining Mr. Joplin again, I promise."

The weight in my chest eased at his words. The fact that he figured it out on his own was the best outcome.

I walked back with him to our seats and took his hand. "I'm glad you changed your mind. Tomorrow morning, we'll go straight to the police. Then, we'll play it by ear with the company. Worst case scenario, we walk away and start something of our own."

"Okay, honey, I'll follow your lead. Here, try this cocktail. It tastes amazing—sweet with a little tang, just how you like."

I didn't hesitate before taking the glass and sipping. "Thanks, sweetheart."

But the second it touched my tongue, I could tell something was off. It tasted sweet and sour, but with a faint bitter edge.

I barely even moved when a sudden wave of dizziness hit me.