He Put His Ex First So I Found My True Mate Chapter 23
Blair was the last one to contact my attorney on her own initiative.
On the video call, her face was pale, and the first thing she asked about wasn’t money.
“I need to confirm something. Does the drive include private messages between Graham and me?”
My attorney didn’t answer. He only reminded her that relevant files would be exchanged through proper procedure.
But Blair reacted as if she had heard the answer anyway.
“He told me those were gone.”
Two years ago, she had asked Graham if he would cancel my ceremony if she wanted to restore their registration.
He had answered: *Yes*.
That one word had been what finally killed my last illusion.
Now, it was a thorn lodged between them.
Blair’s attorney quickly steered the conversation back to the debt, proposing that she accept responsibility only for the suite and her activity costs, not the other charges.
My attorney pulled up the envelope design file.
“Ms. Caldwell participated in planning this event three months in advance, including decisions about the restaurant, the suite, and the competition structure. We also have your message asking who would cover the ten-thousand-dollar bill.”
Blair pressed her lips together.
“Graham said he would handle it.”
“That is a matter between you and Graham.”
That line had once been one of Graham’s favorites to use on me.
Blair entering our home with an old key? A co-parenting issue.
Blair changing our ceremony date and the camp schedule? It was for the pups.
They were free to cross my boundaries whenever they pleased, and somehow I was always the one left to bear the cost.
Now, the bill had finally been pushed back where it belonged—between them.
Blair was quiet for a long time. Then she said abruptly, “I can submit a full statement. I can write down who proposed the wax marks, who created the betting sheet, and how Graham promised me the suite.”
Her attorney turned to her at once.
“Blair.”
“I’m not carrying this for all of them.”
That night, George submitted a statement, too, shifting primary blame onto Blair.
Cynthia insisted in her own filing that Graham had allowed the betting sheet to exist to entertain his friends.
Their six statements contradicted one another on the details.
But together, they established the same truth.
That weekend was not an impulsive joke.
It was a premeditated, group humiliation.
I had not forced them to confess.
I had only put three months of their own records back in front of them.