AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Usually, after proof of death, we deposit the money straight into your account," she said. "You said your name was Elliot?"
"Yes," I said, drawing the word out.
"And you're her husband?"
"Yes." I was starting to have a bad feeling.
"Strange," she muttered. "It says the money was fully deposited into the beneficiary's account."
"That was me," I said, confused. "I never got anything—"
"Is it possible she changed who her beneficiary was?" she asked reluctantly. "The name here doesn't match yours. Possibly to her brother? Or her father, perhaps?"
"It's another man's name?" I rasped. She was silent for a long moment.
"I can't give out personal information."
What a load of shit.
Who could she have changed it to? My mind raced. The night she died, she told me she was leaving to go to the man's house she'd been cheating on me with. She never gave me his name.
I tried to cycle through every man she knew, every man we knew. A few stood out, but when I landed on one, my stomach fell to the floor.
"If I give you a name, can you confirm or deny it?" I asked. She was silent for a long moment and I braced myself.
"I can't give out personal information," she repeated slowly. She said that.
Wait.
She couldn't give out the information, but she wasn't saying she couldn't confirm it. Maybe it was code? A workaround? A way for her to do me a solid without losing her job?
I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to know the answer.
"Drake Abernathy?" I whispered. As his name formed on my lips, everything fell into place. It wouldn't matter if Pamela confirmed it, I already knew in my heart that it was him.
That it had always been him.
Pamela made a humming sound that sounded a lot like "Mhm."
The backs of my eyes burned.
Meredith had cheated on me with Drake, her fucking boss. I'd shared beers with the guy. I'd personally invited him to our baby shower, to my birthday parties.
Betrayal tasted like ash on my tongue.
I was going to be sick.
I was going to rage.
I was going to break something.
I was going to scream.
"Thank you," I grunted.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said, sounding genuine. Before she could say anything else, I hung up.
Drake fucking Abernathy. Of all the people in the world, why did Meredith have to go and fuck him? I knew he was better than me, or she thought he was. More attractive, more successful—just more. He was her type in every way, but she'd always assured me their relationship was strictly platonic.
