All Chapters of I Regained My Sight Just in Time to See My Husband Cheat: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Alexander's POVPeople think these things happen all at once. A door slammed, a decision made in a hot moment, a man who cracks. That was never me. I want that understood, even if the only one I'm explaining it to is myself, at my desk, at eleven at night, with a glass I haven't touched.I don't crack. I plan. That's the whole difference between me and men who lose everything. I saw where this was going a year ago, and I've been moving one quiet piece at a time ever since, the way you're supposed to, so that when the picture is finished no one can point to the moment it was painted.This week I moved four pieces.The first was the school. I called the girls' program on Tuesday and updated the contact information. I made myself the primary. Removed the note that had Clara listed for pickups and emergencies, replaced it with Elara as secondary. The woman on the phone didn't blink. Of course the father is primary. Of course the capable cousin handles the day-to-day. It's the natural orde

Alexander was away that night, some overnight thing in another city, and the house felt different with him gone, looser, the way a stage feels different when one of the actors steps off it.I'd put the girls to bed and gone to my room, and I was sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark. I could see through when I heard Elara's footsteps come down the hall and stop outside my door.She knocked. Once. And then, before I'd finished saying come in, she was already opening it, already stepping through, a woman who'd stopped waiting to be let into rooms in this house a long time ago."Clara," she said. "Are you still up? I saw your light."There was no light. I'd been sitting in the dark. But I turned my face toward her voice, blind and mild, and said, "I don't sleep well. What is it?"She came in and stood near the foot of the bed. I could feel her deciding how to begin, the small charged pause of a person who'd come to say something and was choosing the shape of it. And when she spoke,

Clara’s POVIt came at bedtime, which is when Lily says the truest things, half asleep, her guard down, whatever's been sitting in her all day floating up to the surface.I was doing the voices for her book, the way I did every night, the way I'd done through three years of blindness with the pages memorized because I couldn't read them anymore. Lily had her head on my arm and her thumb near her mouth, that old habit that only came back when she was very tired, and I closed the book and reached to turn off the lamp."Mommy," she said, sleepy. "Can I tell you something?""Always.""I love Elara." She said it into my sleeve, small and easy, no weight to it, no idea what she was handing me. "Like a different kind of mommy. Not the same as you. A different kind. Is that okay?"I kept very still.The lamp was still on. I hadn't turned it off yet. I sat there with my hand near the switch and my daughter's head on my arm and I felt the words go all the way down, slow, like a stone sinking th

He couldn't sleep either, that last night, and that was almost the worst part, that we lay awake in the same dark for different reasons and only I knew both of them.I'd counted it down all day. Tomorrow was the third business day. Tomorrow, sometime in the morning, Oliver Grant would call him, and the papers would land, and the certainty would go out of him. Tonight was the last night of the world as he believed it to be. He just thought it was an ordinary Thursday.He came to bed late and lay down beside me, and for a while neither of us spoke. I kept my breathing slow and even, the breathing of a sleeping woman. But he shifted, and sighed, and shifted again, restless in a way he usually wasn't, and after a while he spoke into the dark."Clara. Are you awake?"I let a pause go by, then made my voice soft and thick, half asleep. "Mm. I am now.""Sorry." He didn't sound sorry. He sounded like a man with something sitting on his chest. "I can't sleep. My mind won't stop.""Work?""Some

Alexander's POVI closed the study door and stood with my back against it for a moment, and I made myself breathe.Sorted. That was the word I'd used upstairs. It'll be sorted, a misunderstanding, Oliver's handling it. I'd said it to Clara's blind, worried face with the same voice I use to close a deal that's already slipping, the confident voice, the nothing-to-see-here voice.It was not going to be sorted. I'd known that before I finished the call.I went to the desk and sat down and pulled up the accounts again, the way you press on a bruise, and there it was, the same as it had been ten minutes ago. Frozen. All of it. Every account tied to the trust, locked behind a court order I'd never seen coming, a sealed filing that had gone in three days ago while I sat at my own dinner table congratulating myself on how calm things had gotten.Three days ago.I sat back in the chair and made myself think, coldly, the way I think when there's real money on the line, which there was, more tha