Chapter 5 The Truth Gets Worse #2
Kallie's face goes pale. She sits back in her chair and stares at me.
"The bracelet," she says quietly.
"What bracelet?"
"He gave me a silver bracelet for Valentine's Day. He said he saved up for it. He said it was special."
Three hundred and sixty dollars at a jewelry store charged to a credit card with my name on it. He bought his mistress a Valentine's Day bracelet using money that I'm legally responsible for.
I don't say anything. I just look at her.
She's young. Twenty-eight according to what Kirk mentioned once in passing when he talked about his coworkers.
She's not a villain. I can see that. She's sitting across from me looking sick and confused and angry in a way that tells me she's just now realizing how badly she was played.
"I didn't know," she says. "Brook. I swear I didn't know about any of that. He told me you two were done. He told me he was single in every way that mattered. That's what he said. Those were his exact words."
"I believe you."
"You do?"
"Yes. Because that's what Kirk does. He tells people what they need to hear to get what he wants. He did it to me for nine years. He did it to you for five months. The words are different but the strategy is the same."
Kallie puts her hand over her mouth and looks away. I can see her eyes are wet. I don't feel satisfaction about that. I don't feel much of anything toward her at all actually. She's not the person who hurt me. Kirk is. Kallie is just another person he used.
"Are you keeping the baby?" I ask. I don't know why I ask. It's none of my business. But it comes out before I can stop it.
"Yes," she says. "I am. And Kirk knows that. He's been trying to talk me out of it since I told him. He keeps saying the timing is wrong. That he needs more time to figure things out."
More time. Kirk's favorite phrase. He always needs more time. More time to save for a house. More time to figure out the next step. More time to be ready for marriage. More time is just another way of saying he doesn't want to deal with whatever is in front of him.
"I'm sorry this happened to you," I say.
And I mean it. Not for Kirk's sake. For hers.
She's twenty-eight years old and pregnant by a man who lied about everything and she's going to have to figure out her life the same way I'm figuring out mine.
We're both starting over. The only difference is that she's starting with a baby on the way and I'm starting with a stack of financial statements and a lawyer.
"I'm sorry too," she says. "For my part in it. Even though I didn't know the whole truth I still should have been more careful. I should have asked more questions."
"You trusted someone who seemed trustworthy. That's not a character flaw."
She nods. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and takes a deep breath. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to separate my finances from his. I'm going to make sure I'm not responsible for the debt he created. And then I'm going to move on with my life."
"That sounds like a good plan."
"It's the only plan I've got."
We sit there for another minute without talking. Then Kallie picks up her purse and stands.
"Thank you for talking to me," she says. "I wasn't sure you would."
"I wasn't sure I would either."
She leaves first. I watch her walk back into the store toward her cart. Then I sit at the table alone for a few more minutes. The in-store music plays. Shoppers move through the aisles with their carts and their lists and their normal lives.
I think about what I just learned. Five months.
Not three. Hotels charged to my credit card.
A bracelet bought with money I'm liable for.
Kirk lied to Kallie about the state of our relationship so completely that she genuinely believed I was already gone.
He built an entire alternate reality for both of us.
One where I was the loyal girlfriend waiting at home and she was the new beginning he was working toward.
And in the middle of both versions was Kirk.
Taking from both of us. Giving nothing real to either.
I go back and finish my grocery shopping. Chicken. Broccoli. Rice. The mundane routine of feeding myself feels important right now. Normal. Essential. I pay for my groceries and load them into the car and drive home.
In my kitchen I put everything away and then I sit at the table and open the folder of financial statements again. I look at the jewelry store charges. January. March. Three hundred and sixty dollars. A silver bracelet for Valentine's Day.
I close the folder and call Fiona. She answers on the third ring.
"Fiona. It's Brook Walker. I have some additional information I think you need to know."
"Go ahead."
I tell her about the encounter with Kallie. About the five months. About the bracelet. About the fact that Kirk has been telling Kallie their relationship is essentially a fait accompli. Fiona listens and takes notes the same way she always does. Calm. Thorough. Without judgment.
"This is helpful," she says when I finish. "The timeline matters. And the fact that he used shared financial resources for personal romantic expenditures with another party strengthens your position considerably. I'll incorporate all of this into the letter."
"Thank you, Fiona."
"You're doing the right thing, Brook. I know it doesn't feel that way. But documenting everything and pursuing this through proper channels is the smartest approach. We're going to make sure you're protected."
I hang up and sit in the kitchen as the evening settles around me.
The house is quiet. The groceries are put away.
The folder is on the table. My phone is on the counter and it hasn't buzzed with a text from Kirk in almost twenty-four hours.
Maybe he's finally getting the message. Or maybe he's just busy with whatever version of his life doesn't include me.
I cook dinner for the first time in two weeks. Actual dinner. Chicken and broccoli and rice with soy sauce and garlic. I eat it at the table slowly and it tastes good. Better than toast. Better than leftover Thai food reheated in the microwave at midnight.
After dinner I wash the dishes and wipe down the counters and go outside to sit on the patio. The plastic chair wobbles. The garden looks better since I worked on it last weekend. The tomato plants are growing. The soil is fresh.
I sit there until the sun goes down and I think about Kallie Watson sitting across from me in the grocery store coffee area looking like someone had just pulled the floor out from under her life.
I know that feeling. I've been living in it for two weeks.
But I'm starting to find my footing again.
Not because the pain is gone. It isn't. But because I'm doing something about it instead of waiting for someone else to fix things.
I never waited for anyone to fix things before Kirk.
I used to handle my own problems. Make my own decisions.
Trust my own judgment. Somewhere along the way I stopped doing that.
I let Kirk become the person I deferred to on everything from finances to weekend plans to the direction of our entire future. And look where it got me.
Never again.
I go inside and lock the door and get ready for bed.
Tomorrow is Friday. I have three more boxes of records to deliver to the County Archives.
Ross is expecting me in the morning. I find myself looking forward to it and I don't question why.
I just accept it. Something to look forward to is something to look forward to.
I don't need to examine it any deeper than that.
I set my alarm and turn off the light and fall asleep faster than I have in weeks.