Malik removed his phone.
“I have every message.”
Simone’s face changed.
“Malik.”
He slid the phone across the table toward Adrian.
“I’m not giving you my whole phone.”
“Understandable.”
“But I’ll export anything about money or what she said about the marriage.”
Adrian nodded.
“Send it to Dana when she calls.”
Simone stared.
“You’re choosing him.”
Malik looked shocked.
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I’m choosing not to be part of fraud if that’s what this becomes.”
“You knew I was married.”
“Yes.”
“You slept with me anyway.”
“Yes.”
He did not hide.
“That was wrong.”
Simone stared.
Malik continued:
“But I’m not taking a charge for paperwork you lied to me about.”
The words hurt her.
Adrian saw it.
Something strange happened inside him.
He did not enjoy it.
He had imagined, perhaps subconsciously, that if he ever caught his wife cheating, the other man’s humiliation would feel satisfying.
It did not.
All three looked pathetic in different ways.
Adrian included himself in that sentence only because standing in the wreckage of his marriage made everyone feel diminished.
Dana called.
Adrian placed her on speaker after everyone agreed.
She asked direct questions.
No drama.
Had any loan been submitted?
Simone said no.
Malik said one prequalification form had been sent to Randall.
Dana asked whether Adrian’s name appeared.
Yes.
Was a signature included?
Not on the submitted prequalification.
Dana asked for confirmation directly from Randall and lender records.
No one touched anything else.
She also advised Adrian that joint funds might be a marital dispute rather than theft depending on ownership and purpose.
The identity documents and potential signature use were more serious.
“We need facts before labels,” Dana said.
Adrian looked at Simone.
Good.
He did not want anger writing criminal accusations faster than evidence.
After the call Malik stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Simone did not stop him this time.
At the door, Adrian asked:
“How long did you know me?”
Malik turned.
“What?”
“You’ve worked here ten months.”
“Yes.”
“You looked me in the face every week.”
Malik’s expression tightened.
“I know.”
“You wished me safe travels today.”
“I know.”
Adrian swallowed.
“Why?”
Malik did not pretend not to understand.
“Because if I treated you like a person, I had to think about what I was doing.”
The honesty hit.
Adrian stared.
Malik continued:
“That’s not an excuse.”
“No.”
“I kept you as ‘her husband’ in my head.”
Adrian nodded slowly.
“Easier.”
“Yes.”
Malik looked toward the floor.
“I’m sorry.”
Adrian did not say it was okay.
It wasn’t.
He simply opened the door.
Malik left.
The mower remained unfinished.
A ridiculous stripe of long grass cut across the side yard where he had abandoned work.
Adrian noticed that for months afterward.
That night Simone slept in the guest room.
Adrian slept nowhere.
He sat in his office until nearly four in the morning reviewing bank statements.
The first transfer occurred in November.
$7,500.
Then $6,000.
$9,500.
$12,000.
Smaller amounts.
The total matched what Simone admitted.
$62,300.
He found payments to a commercial landlord.
Architectural plans.
Business-registration fees.
Equipment deposits.
Not jewelry.
Not vacations.
Not gifts to Malik.
That mattered.
Simone really had been building a business.
The affair and the business were intertwined, but the money had not simply been handed to her lover.
Another truth that made anger less convenient.
At 3:18 a.m., Adrian found something else.
An email forwarded from Simone’s personal account to the joint printer months earlier.
He recognized his own name.