Chapter 8 - The Woman Behind the Perfect Family
Three days after I canceled my wedding, Diane Walker arrived at my office carrying a white bakery box.
She hadn't made an appointment.
My receptionist called upstairs.
"Emma, there's a Mrs. Walker here. She says it's important."
I stared at my computer screen.
"Tell her I'm busy."
A pause.
"She says she knows you're upset, but she has something that belongs to you."
I closed my eyes.
"Send her up."
Diane entered my office wearing a pale blue designer suit and the same pearl necklace she'd worn at our engagement party.
She looked immaculate.
Except for her hands.
They were trembling.
"I brought lemon cake," she said.
I gestured toward the chair.
"Please sit."
She placed the box on my desk.
"I know it's your favorite."
"Thank you."
Neither of us touched it.
Finally, Diane said, "Daniel tells me you've hired an attorney."
"Yes."
"Are you planning to sue him?"
"I'm trying to recover my contribution to the townhouse."
She nodded.
"Of course."
I waited.
She folded her hands.
"I came to ask whether you would reconsider involving outsiders in our family matters."
I looked at her.
"Outsiders?"
"Lawyers. Accountants. Investigators."
"Diane, your family's financial decisions affected me."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
She looked away.
I leaned forward.
"Because from where I'm sitting, you've spent years encouraging Daniel to believe he was responsible for repairing damage he didn't cause."
Her expression hardened.
"You don't understand what Mia went through."
"Then tell me."
Diane's eyes filled.
"Laura was my friend."
I blinked.
"What?"
"We met when our children were young. Before she worked for Richard's company. Before everything went wrong."
She stared at her hands.
"Her husband left. She was struggling. I convinced Thomas to hire her."
"And when she discovered the irregularities?"
Diane swallowed.
"I begged her not to go public."
"Why?"
"Because Richard had spent his entire life building that company. Thomas had already made terrible decisions. I thought if we handled it quietly, nobody else would suffer."
"But Laura suffered."
Diane nodded.
"Yes."
"And Mia."
"Yes."
"And Daniel."
A tear slid down her cheek.
"Yes."
I waited.
Then I asked the question that mattered.
"Did you ever tell Daniel he was allowed to stop paying for your mistake?"
She looked at me.
Her silence was answer enough.
I felt anger rise.
Not explosive anger.
Something colder.
"You made your son responsible for a debt that wasn't his. Then you watched him sacrifice his relationship to keep paying it."
Diane wiped her face.
"I never wanted this."
"But you accepted it."
She looked down.
"Yes."
I sat back.
For the first time, I saw Diane clearly.
Not as a villain.
Not as a helpless mother.
As a woman who had made one cowardly decision and spent years making others to avoid confronting it.
She opened her purse.
"I brought something else."
She placed an envelope on my desk.
Inside was a cashier's check.
Sixty-five thousand dollars.
I stared.
"What's this?"
"Your contribution to the townhouse."
"Where did it come from?"
"My personal savings."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because you shouldn't have to pay for our mistakes."
For one brief moment, I felt something soften.
Then I noticed a second document.
A release agreement.
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
My expression changed.
"Diane."
She looked at me.
"What?"
"This agreement requires me to waive all claims relating to the townhouse, Daniel's financial arrangements, and any statements made about the Walker family."
She said nothing.
"It also includes a confidentiality clause."
"It's standard."
"No. It isn't."
Her face tightened.
"Emma, I'm offering you everything you contributed."
"You're offering to return my money if I promise never to talk."
"That's not fair."
I slid the documents back toward her.
"Neither is asking me to sign away rights before I know what happened."
Diane looked genuinely hurt.
"Do you want to destroy us?"
I stared at her.
"No. I wanted to marry your son."
That silenced her.
I pushed the envelope across the desk.
"Have your attorney contact Rachel."
Diane stood.
For a moment, she seemed about to say something.
Then she whispered, "Laura used to say the same thing."
I frowned.
"What?"
"That she didn't want to destroy us."
She picked up her purse.
"She just wanted the truth."
After Diane left, I sat alone for several minutes.
Then I called Rachel.
"She offered me my money back."
"With conditions?"
"Of course."
Rachel sighed.
"Send me everything."
I scanned the documents.
Twenty minutes later, she called back.
"Emma, there's something interesting here."
"What?"
"The release refers to a specific transaction involving the townhouse."
I frowned.
"Which transaction?"
"A proposed assignment of ownership interests dated two months ago."
"Two months?"
"Yes."
"But Daniel told me the inquiry to add Mia was recent."
"That's what concerns me."
I stared at the wall.
"Rachel, what does it mean?"
"It means someone may have been considering changes to the property's ownership long before the current application."
I felt sick.
"Can we find out who?"
"Possibly. Richard's attorney is cooperating. We're requesting the relevant records."
That evening, I received a message from an unfamiliar number.
Unknown: You don't know me, but I worked with Laura Collins. Diane isn't the only person lying.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
Unknown: If you want to know why Daniel really proposed to you, meet me tomorrow.
My hands went cold.
Then came a photograph.
Daniel.
Standing outside a coffee shop.
Beside Mia.
The photograph was dated six months before Daniel and I had met.
May you like
On the back of the printed photograph, someone had written:
Ask him about the Bennett connection.
