SHE BROUGHT HIS MISTRESS INTO THEIR BED

Priya examined Chloe's page the next morning.

“It appears to be a proposal,” she said. “It doesn't show that a loan was made against the house. We'll verify the current records.”

I sat across from her, trying not to count dangers before they were real.

Chloe had left her number. Priya asked if I wanted any further contact to go through the office. I said yes. I wasn't ready to hear more apologies from someone who had unpacked in my closet.

The title records showed no new loan secured by the house. I felt my shoulders drop when Priya told me. The relief lasted until she added that Mateo had clearly been considering it.

“We need a clear account of his business debts,” she said.

Mateo agreed to meet with us two days later. He brought an accountant and a thin folder. Sofia waited in the lobby at my request. I wanted to face him myself, but I wanted to know someone would be there when I came out.

Mateo looked worn down. He had shaved, put on the navy jacket I bought him for our anniversary, and arranged his papers neatly. I could see how hard he was trying to look like the husband I'd known.

Priya asked him to explain the restaurant's position.

He had unpaid supplier bills, rent due on the dining space, and a loan from Chloe. He had sent her money from our joint account after promising to repay part of what she'd given him. He'd also applied for another loan and used my signature without asking.

Hearing him admit it all in one room hurt more than discovering each piece separately.

“Why didn't you tell me the restaurant was this close to closing?” I asked.

“Every week I thought I could turn it around.”

“And Chloe?”

He looked at his hands.

“I met her when she came in for dinner with friends. We started talking.”

“How long were you seeing her before you gave her the key?”

“About two months.”

Two months.

He had taken me to dinner for our anniversary during one of those weeks. I remembered him touching my hand across the table.

Mateo saw my face.

“I didn't know how to tell you once it started.”

“You could have stopped.”

“I should have.”

Priya guided us back to the finances. I was grateful. If we spent the whole meeting talking about betrayal, I might have stayed until dark trying to understand why he had done it.

Mateo's accountant said the restaurant could not keep operating under its current costs. Mateo would need to decide whether to close, sell what he could, or find a partner who understood the debts.

“I won't be that partner,” I said.

Mateo flinched.

“I know.”

I hadn't known he did.

After the meeting, he asked to speak with me alone. Priya told me I could decline. I agreed to five minutes in a room with the door open.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“For which part?”

“All of it.”

“That is a lot to be sorry for.”

He nodded.

“I was afraid you'd look at me and see someone who failed.”

“I looked at you and saw my husband. You decided I couldn't know what was happening.”

“I know that now.”

I stood.

“I need the house to be a place where I can sleep. Will you stay somewhere else while we work out the next steps?”

He stared at me.

“You want me out.”

“I want us apart. I can't go back there while you're in our bedroom.”

Mateo looked away.

“I can stay with my brother for now.”

I hadn't expected him to agree. When he did, I felt grief rather than victory.

Sofia was waiting downstairs. She took one look at me and led me outside. We sat in her car without starting it.

“He said he'll leave the house for now,” I told her.

“Do you believe him?”

“I think so. Priya will put it in writing.”

Sofia nodded.

“Then you'll go home when you're ready.”

I rested my head against the seat.

“I don't know what home means at the moment.”

The next evening, Mateo sent me a message saying he'd moved his clothes to his brother's. He left the house key on the kitchen table. I went there with Sofia and checked the rooms before she left.

The bedroom smelled like clean linen. I changed the sheets anyway. I moved my clothes back across the closet and put Mom's photograph upright on the dresser.

Then I slept on the sofa.

At three in the morning, I woke to the sound of someone trying the front door.

I sat up.

The handle turned once, then again.

I reached for my phone and saw a message from Chloe, sent less than a minute earlier.

Mateo isn't answering me. I need to get my things.

I stayed where I was and called through the door.

“Chloe, I have your remaining things. I'll arrange a time for you to collect them.”

“I know you hate me,” she answered. “But Mateo told me something tonight you need to hear.”

I gripped the phone.