At least, that was what I’d always believed.
“Whose account was it?”
Emily didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she lowered her gaze.
“That’s part of what I’ve been hiding from you.”
I felt anger rising inside me.
“Emily, you’ve been my best friend for thirty-seven years. If you know something about my husband, I deserve to hear it.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I know. And I’m sorry I kept this from you for so long.”
She explained that Daniel had made repeated payments to someone whose name meant absolutely nothing to me.
The transfers had continued over a period of years.
I examined each document, searching desperately for an explanation.
Then I reached the final page.
It contained an address.
My breath caught.
I recognized it immediately.
It was the address of the house where Daniel and I had lived before moving into our current home.
I looked straight at Emily.
“Why is our old address connected to these payments?”
Her expression changed.
She seemed to have been dreading that exact question.
“Because,” she said quietly, “the person receiving that money lived at that address.”
I shook my head.
“That doesn’t make sense. Daniel and I lived there together.”
Emily wiped her eyes.
Then she said something that made my entire body go cold.
“That person was living there long before you ever met Daniel.”
I stared at her, unable to speak.
Until that morning, I’d believed the secrets surrounding my husband must have begun sometime during our marriage.
But now I was beginning to understand something far more disturbing.
Whatever Daniel had been hiding hadn’t started after our wedding.
It had begun years before I walked down the aisle.
And somehow, Emily had known enough to keep it from me.
For thirty-seven years, I’d believed I knew everything important about my best friend.
Now I wasn’t even certain I knew the truth about my own marriage.