She was right.
I folded the copies Rachel had provided.
Then I asked, “Do you think Ashley married me for the money?”
Rachel was quiet for several seconds.
“I don’t know what she feels for you, Nathan. An email doesn’t tell me that.”
“But?”
“But you’ve just described her humiliating your mother over how she smelled and dressed. And those messages show that Ashley had an interest in the family assets she didn’t discuss with you.”
I nodded.
“That’s enough to justify a serious conversation.”
Rachel stood.
“And Nathan?”
I looked up.
“Get your own attorney for your marriage. I represent the company, and you’re going to need advice that isn’t mixed up with what Bennett Freight needs.”
I managed a tired smile.
“Still telling me what to do.”
“Someone has to.”
She walked me to the door.
Before I left, she touched my shoulder.
“How’s Diane?”
I swallowed.
“She’s pretending she’s fine.”
Rachel’s expression softened.
“That sounds like her.”
I thanked her.
Then I drove to my mother’s house.
Because after everything I’d learned, there was one person whose story I still hadn’t heard.
Mom was in the garage when I arrived.
She’d changed out of her wedding clothes and was standing beside her old Buick, trying to remove a stubborn stain from the driver’s seat with a damp cloth.
She hadn’t heard my car pull into the driveway.
For a moment, I watched her.
