Chapter 8 - OUR FIRST DATE WAS A LIE
I remembered our first date perfectly.
A bookstore café.
Rain outside.
Gavin accidentally knocked over my coffee.
At least, that was the story I had loved telling.
Apparently, nothing about it was accidental.
Claire hired an investigator.
He reconstructed Gavin's employment history.
Four years before we met, Gavin worked for Talbot Development.
The same company trying to buy my grandmother's property.
He had been assigned to “acquisition research.”
Translation?
Find owners.
Learn pressure points.
Make deals.
My grandmother refused every offer.
Then she died.
Eight months later, Gavin “accidentally” met me.
June sat across from me as we read the report.
“He targeted you.”
I hated how small my voice sounded.
“Maybe at first.”
June gave me a look.
“Tess.”
“I know.”
But I needed some part of the marriage to have been real.
The Christmas mornings.
The stupid dancing in the kitchen.
The night I miscarried and Gavin held me until sunrise.
Had he performed all of that too?
That question hurt more than the affair.
Then Lorraine called.
“I found something.”
She brought over an old box from Gavin's childhood bedroom.
Inside were college papers, tax documents, photographs.
And one file folder labeled TALBOT.
Gavin had kept copies of property maps.
My grandmother's land was circled in red.
Beside it, handwritten:
Owner stubborn. Granddaughter primary heir.
My name was written below.
Tessa Vale.
I hadn't even met him yet.
My marriage began as a business strategy.
I went to the bathroom and threw up.
Afterward, June found me sitting on the floor.
She didn't say anything.
She just sat beside me.
Eventually, I whispered, “I don't know which memories belong to me anymore.”
June took my hand.
“They all belong to you. His lies don't get to erase what you felt.”
That helped.
Not enough.
But some.
The next morning, Gavin requested mediation.
Claire advised me not to attend.
I insisted.
We met in a law office.
He looked tired.
Older.
For the first time, he wasn't wearing his wedding ring.
“You found the Talbot file,” he said.
Not a question.
I stared at him.
“When did you decide to marry me?”
His jaw tightened.
“Tessa—”
“When?”
“At first, yes, I knew about the land.”
“Answer me.”
He looked down.
“I approached you because of the property.”
My throat burned.
“And then?”
“Then I fell in love with you.”
I almost laughed.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“While forging my signature?”
“That happened later.”
“Comforting.”
He leaned forward.
“I made terrible choices after the business failed.”
“You mean after you lost money.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
His silence told me the answer would be bad.
“Gavin.”
“Four million.”
I stared.
“How?”
“Investments.”
“What investments?”
He finally met my eyes.
“Money that wasn't mine.”
The affair and property fraud suddenly became part of something bigger.
Gavin wasn't trying to become rich.
He was trying to replace millions of dollars he had already stolen.
Then he told me who the money belonged to.
May you like
“My clients.”
Gavin had been running a Ponzi scheme.
