Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Julia asked Abby to dinner four days after the move. Her message arrived shortly before noon, while Abby was standing in the office kitchen waiting for the smell of someone’s reheated fish to stop turning her stomach.
Robert and I would like to see you privately, Julia wrote. Hudson will not be here, and we will not ask you to reconsider the engagement. We want to understand what happened.
Abby read the message twice before forwarding it to Sadie. Her sister called before Abby made it back to her desk.
“Do you believe her?” Sadie asked as a car horn sounded behind her. “Specifically the part about Hudson not being there.”
“I believe Julia intends for him not to be there.” Abby sat and lowered her voice. “I don’t know whether he’ll respect that if he finds out.”
“Then I’m driving you, and I’ll stay nearby.” Sadie paused before adding, “You don’t have to go just because she asked politely.”
Abby looked at the unanswered email on her monitor. She had loved Robert and Julia for most of her adult life, and avoiding them had begun to feel like another decision Hudson was making for her.
“I want them to know the truth,” she said. “If they choose his version after that, at least I won’t have to wonder whether I should have tried.”
“Bring the evidence,” Sadie said as her turn signal clicked through the phone. “Don’t let this become a debate about whose memory is more reliable.”
The evidence still belonged to Evan as much as it did to Abby. She waited until her lunch break, then sent him a message asking whether she could show copies of the files to Robert and Julia.
His answer arrived several minutes later. Yes. I saved everything in a separate folder, including the original dates and account records. I’ll send you a link when I’m back at my computer.
Abby typed a thank-you and hesitated before sending a second question. Is your board meeting today?
At four, Evan replied. I expect it to be long.
Good luck sounded too casual for a meeting that might determine whether his employees continued receiving their salaries. Abby settled on, I hope they hear the difference between a delay and a failure.
Evan’s response came after she had returned to work. So do I.
Sadie drove Abby to the Covington house on Friday evening and parked two streets away. She had brought a book and a thermos of coffee, though Abby suspected she would spend most of the evening watching her phone.
“Call me if Hudson appears,” Sadie said as she unlocked the doors. “You don’t need to explain anything first, and you don’t need to finish dinner.”
“I know.” Abby placed one hand on the door handle and looked toward the stone house at the end of the street. “Julia said he doesn’t know I’m coming.”
“Julia also believed an affair was a misunderstanding involving confused boundaries.” Sadie reached across the console and squeezed Abby’s wrist. “I’m not saying she’s lying. I’m saying she has spent thirty-two years believing Hudson’s explanations.”
Abby nodded and stepped onto the sidewalk. The evening air had warmed enough to carry the scent of damp soil from the neighboring gardens, and the daffodils along Julia’s front path had begun opening.
The house looked unchanged from the last time Abby entered it. Light filled the tall windows, Robert’s sedan occupied the left side of the drive, and the brass planter beside the door held the white flowers Julia ordered every spring.
Julia opened the door before Abby rang the bell. Her face crumpled with relief, but she stopped herself from reaching for Abby.
“Thank you for coming,” she said as she stepped aside. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I almost didn’t.” Abby entered with her laptop bag over one shoulder.
Julia closed the door and glanced at the bag. “Robert is in the study. I made dinner, but we can talk first if you prefer.”
Abby had expected the dining room to be set with Julia’s china and silver candlesticks, the familiar arrangements she used whenever a meal carried emotional importance. Instead, three places waited at the smaller table in the kitchen, beside a covered dish of baked pasta and a bowl of salad.
“The kitchen is fine,” Abby said as she removed her coat. “I can’t eat much in the evenings, but everything smells good.”
“I avoided garlic.” Julia hung the coat in the hall closet and kept her attention on the hanger. “Hudson said certain smells have been bothering you.”
The knowledge irritated Abby before she could prevent it. Hudson passed details about her body to his mother as if he still had ordinary access to them.
“He heard me tell the doctor,” Abby said. “I’d rather information from my appointments stay between the people I choose to tell.”
Julia closed the closet door. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I should not have repeated it.”
Robert emerged from the study before Abby had to answer. He wore dark trousers and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a degree of informality she rarely saw outside summer weekends.
“Hello, Abby.” He stopped several feet away and waited until she offered her hand. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with us.”
She shook his hand, though the formality hurt more than an embrace might have. Robert had hugged her at graduations, birthdays, and the funeral of Abby’s father, and now neither of them knew what affection they were permitted to show.
They sat at the kitchen table without serving the food. Julia took the chair across from Abby, while Robert sat at the end with a yellow legal pad placed beside his untouched water glass.
“Hudson told us the relationship with Makayla lasted several weeks,” Robert said as he uncapped a pen. “He described it as emotional dependence that crossed a line during a difficult period in both their engagements.”
Abby opened her laptop but did not turn it toward them yet. “The first messages Evan found were from eighteen months ago. There may have been earlier contact that wasn’t saved.”
Julia’s fingers tightened around the stem of her water glass. “Eighteen months?”
“They met at hotels at least eleven times in the records we have.” Abby opened the folder Evan had shared with her. “They also used Hudson’s apartment when I was away, Makayla’s hotel rooms during conferences, and once the Covington lake house.”
Robert stopped writing. “The lake house was closed last winter.”
“Hudson told me he needed to meet the caretaker about a frozen pipe.” Abby found the message thread and turned the screen toward him. “Makayla told Evan she had an overnight sales meeting in Milwaukee.”
The messages filled the screen beneath their dates.
Makayla had complained about the cold, and Hudson had promised to have the caretaker light the fireplaces before she arrived.
Four hours later, he sent Abby a photograph of the snow-covered dock and said he wished she had been able to come with him.
Julia covered her mouth. “That was the weekend you took me to choose invitations.”
Abby remembered sitting with Julia at a long table covered in samples while Hudson sent occasional updates about the supposed repair. He had thanked his mother afterward for keeping Abby occupied because the drive would have been miserable in the snow.
“Yes,” Abby said. “That was the weekend.”
Robert moved the laptop closer and read the entire exchange. His expression changed very little, but his pen remained untouched beside the legal pad.
“Did Evan recover these directly from Makayla’s device?” he asked. “I need to know whether anything was altered or compiled from screenshots.”
“The original messages are still on the tablet.” Abby folded her hands to keep them from shaking. “He exported copies and preserved the dates. There are photographs, voice recordings, hotel confirmations, and bank transfers.”
“May I see the transfers?” Robert asked as he turned the laptop toward her. “You can refuse if this is information Evan does not want shared.”
“He gave me permission.” Abby opened the financial folder. “Hudson sent Makayla money at least twice a month. Some transfers were small, but others were several thousand dollars.”
Julia stared at the list. Payments corresponded with Makayla’s rent, car repairs, a dental bill, and a credit-card balance Hudson had promised to clear after she threatened to end the affair.
“He told us she was taking advantage of him,” Julia said as she touched one of the dates on the screen. “He said she became unstable when he tried to end the friendship.”
“He told Makayla the money proved he was building a future with her.” Abby opened the corresponding message. “When she asked him to leave me, he usually sent a gift or paid a bill.”
Julia read in silence. Makayla’s messages moved between gratitude, fear, and anger, while Hudson’s replies assured her that Abby’s family circumstances or the wedding plans made an immediate separation impossible.
“He blamed your father’s death,” Julia said as she looked up. “Hudson said he couldn’t leave because you were still grieving.”
“My father died four years ago.” Abby felt the old grief catch beneath the newer one. “Hudson used him as an excuse three separate times.”
Julia pushed the laptop away and stood. She crossed to the sink, braced both hands against the counter, and kept her back to the table.
“He sat beside you at the funeral,” she said. “He gave the reading because you asked him to.”
Abby remembered Hudson practicing the passage in their hotel room, annoyed that the printout used a font he disliked. She had mistaken his willingness to stand beside her for evidence that he understood the loss.
“I know,” Abby said. “That’s why the excuse worked.”
Robert turned several pages of the transfer records. “This account ending in sixty-one belongs to Hudson personally, but I recognize the card number on two of these hotel confirmations. It is issued through Covington Holdings.”
Abby looked at the confirmation he indicated. “Evan noticed some rooms were booked under company travel, but we didn’t know whether Hudson reimbursed them.”