Page 253 of The Wright Man

Gavin tilted his head, so fucking sure of himself. "I would've saved us both the trouble."

And that's when he said it.

"Besides," he said, faux casual. "It's not like I was the first one who stepped out."

I felt the words hit like a punch to the chest. The air whooshed out of me. My vision tunneled for a second, black creeping in at the edges.

"Excuse me?" I choked, my voice going high and sharp. "What the fuck did you just say?"

My hands were clenched into fists before I even realized it.

I wasn't just furious. I was shocked. Because out of all the sick, twisted things I'd expected Gavin to try and pull in this meeting... accusing me of cheating?

That wasn't even in the same galaxy.

And from the smug little tilt of his head, I could tell he knew it.

By the time my ears stopped ringing, Gavin's attorney was on bullet point number three, and my nails were carving crescent moons into the flesh of my palm.

"She admitted to kissing another man during her marriage," the lawyer said smoothly, his voice dry and clinical, like he was reading off a grocery list. "Her own admission."

"Yes," I cut in, trying to keep my voice level. "Then I walked in on my husband with his pregnant mistress and their toddler. Let's not leave that part out."

Neither of them blinked.

"And the child she lost while married to Mr. Riddle," the man continued, turning a page like this was all part of some scripted performance, "was named after that same man."

I flinched. Not because he was wrong. But because I'd always known they'd twist that detail into a blade if they could. "We hadn't seen or spoken to each other in years when I named her that," I said quietly. "Not since our wedding."

"Still," he said, as if that explained everything.

"Still what?" I snapped. "Still dared to name a baby after someone who actually cared about me?"

Gavin didn't even look at me. He just stared down at the conference table like he was bored. Like this wasn't his mess. Like I wasn't sitting right across from him, bleeding and pissed.

"She was close to this man—Mr. Wright—for years before ever dating my client," the lawyer said. "They had an emotional connection that predated and, frankly, undermined the sanctity of the marriage."

"He was a friend," I hissed. "Nothing romantic. Not for years."

"Yet she's currently living with him," the attorney added, finally glancing up with a smug little smile. "And clearly in a romantic relationship."

I had no comeback for that one.

Because yes. Yes, I was. And thank God.

I stared at the two of them, at this cheap little tag-team act they'd rehearsed and executed without so much as a flicker of shame.

Wendy cleared her throat, made a small note on her clipboard that probably said nothing useful, and murmured something about remaining civil. Her voice was white noise. She was basically invisible behind her glasses while my ex and his pitbull lawyer dragged me like I was the one who'd cheated. Like I was the liar. Like I was the problem.

I felt heat rise up my throat, rage creeping in like a slow-burning fire. How the hell did I ever settle for this man? For his lies. His manipulation. His desperate need to control everything, right down to how I grieved a child we both lost.

I didn't say another word. Not during the rest of the meeting. Not when they brought up finances. Not when they smirked over splitting assets, including my salon. The one I built with my hands while Gavin was out doing God knows what, laying up with God knows who.

I sat there, burning silently. Teeth clenched so tight my jaw throbbed.

And the second Wendy dismissed us with a cheerful "let's all try to focus on what's best for everyone," I was up and out of that room like it was on fire.

I made it to the hallway before my fingers were already dialing. I didn't even have to think. Didn't have to breathe.