Brandon and I had been married for four of those years.
And Savannah, the woman he’d claimed to have met just fourteen months earlier, was already connected to a company receiving money from mine.
I looked at Dad.
“He knew her before the affair.”
Dad’s expression remained serious.
“At the very least, the records suggest a prior business connection.”
I leaned back.
“Then how long has he been lying?”
Nobody answered.
Dad reached for a legal pad.
He began writing a timeline.
The vendor’s formation.
Its first invoice.
Brandon’s introductions to our business contacts.
The payments.
The beginning of the affair, as Brandon had described it.
Then Dad circled one date.
The year Brandon had asked me to make him a paid business-development consultant.
I’d refused.
I remembered the argument.
He’d accused me of not believing in him.
Said I was embarrassed to involve my husband in the company.
I had apologized.
