He Moved His Lover In I Moved My Money Out Chapter 02
At one in the morning, I heard a key turn in the front hall.
Graham was back.
He didn’t go upstairs. He didn’t even take off his coat. He walked straight into the study, the salt-damp scent of the Newport shore clinging to him, mixed with the Jo Malone perfume Claire always wore.
I was checking the last box of my personal files.
He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, as if nothing had happened.
“Nora, are you still mad?”
He kept his voice low, his lips near my ear.
I didn’t move.
“Claire’s ex suddenly froze her accounts. She doesn’t have a penny to her name, and she still has Owen with her. I was the only person she could turn to. I couldn’t just let them end up on the street.”
“So you moved her into our home.”
“It’s a temporary arrangement.”
He sighed, sounding put-upon, as if I were the unreasonable one.
“She’s emotionally unstable right now, and the child just changed schools. Once she’s had time to recover, I’ll handle it. You’ve always been the most sensible one. You know this isn’t the time to push someone over the edge.”
I looked down at the hands clasped around my waist.
The same hands that signed contracts, moved money, and gave my house to someone else—yet still thought one embrace would smooth everything over.
“Richard said you were planning to compensate me.”
Graham let out a small laugh.
“The jewelry is only part of it. If you want to renovate another house, or buy a new one altogether, that’s fine too. Set your own budget. I’ll make it up to you, twofold.”
When he finished, he lowered his head to kiss me.
I turned my face away.
He froze.
I pried his hands off me, got up, and crossed to the bookshelf to switch on the floor lamp.
The light spilled across the neatly stacked boxes lined up by the wall. My design books, project drafts, licensing materials, and personal files had all been sorted and sealed, each one labeled with a number.
The smile faded from Graham’s face.
“What is all this?”
“My things.”
“I know they’re yours.” He stared at the boxes, his voice turning hard. “I’m asking what this is supposed to mean.”
“I’m moving out.”
He stood there for a few seconds, as if he hadn’t heard me.
“Nora, over a vacation house?”
“It’s not about the house.”
I looked at him.
“It’s that you used my money to give the home I designed to another woman, then let your family and friends take turns telling me it was an act of kindness.”
His jaw tightened.
“Claire was broke. I was just taking on a responsibility I was supposed to. Do you have to make helping someone sound so ugly?”
Even now, there wasn’t a trace of remorse.
He was only angry that I refused to play along.
I picked up the folder from the desk, my voice calm.
“The legal process has already begun. Starting tomorrow, if you want to discuss assets, accounts, or the house, speak to my lawyer.”
At last, his expression changed.
“You’re divorcing me?”
“My lawyer will send over the papers. As for the house, you can go ahead and give it to her as a shelter, too.”