Paige paused. “There are women from the children’s activity group I could ask.”
“Did he borrow money from you?”
“Two thousand dollars for a lawyer. He claimed you might take Valerie overseas.”
“I’d seen her in photos, but we didn’t know each other personally.”
I asked her to find out who else knew Donavan.
On Saturday morning, Paige contacted a woman from the activity group’s chat. She’d been dating him for two months and had loaned him $5,000 for supposed medical bills.
“She thinks Valerie’s mother is hospitalized,” Paige wrote. “He says they’re separated.”
“How could you all know him without noticing?” I asked.
“It’s a large group with different sessions. I’d seen her in photos, but we didn’t know each other personally.”
While Valerie played outside, I showed Mom the transfers.
Dead. Overseas. Hospitalized.
I was caring for Valerie every day, and strangers thought I was gone.
I took her to my mother’s house. While Valerie played outside, I showed Mom the transfers.
“Keep copies,” she said. “Don’t let him explain away documents.”
I asked to use her house for a meeting on Sunday. My sister agreed to watch Valerie.
Back home, Donavan had cleaned the kitchen and left flowers by the sink.
Mom watched Valerie chase a butterfly across the yard. She didn’t tell me to forgive Donavan or leave him. Instead, she asked whether I felt safe having the conversation at home. I said I wanted someone nearby who knew what was happening. That was why I chose her kitchen, not because I wanted an audience. I wanted answers, and I didn’t want Donavan to walk away from them as he had every time I’d asked about Paige.
Back home, Donavan had cleaned the kitchen and left flowers by the sink.
Two more women from the activity group had shared photographs.
“I want us to start over.”
“Have you told me everything?”
He looked directly at me.
“Everything.”
Sunday morning, Paige called. Two more women from the activity group had shared photographs, messages, and transfer receipts. One believed I’d abandoned Valerie; the other thought I was dead.
I told Donavan we needed to discuss our future at Mom’s house.
Paige connected the women in a private message thread. They agreed to share their evidence.
By Sunday, I had stopped hoping the evidence would turn out to be a misunderstanding. I still didn’t know how many lies there were, or whether Donavan would admit them. But I wanted him to hear the truth from the women he’d deceived, not just from me anymore.
I told Donavan we needed to discuss our future at Mom’s house. Paige and Tessa came too, while Valerie stayed with my sister.
Paige showed him messages arranging dates on Saturdays he’d supposedly spent alone with our daughter.
When Donavan saw them, he turned toward the door.
“Sit down,” I said.
Paige showed him photographs and messages arranging dates on Saturdays he’d supposedly spent alone with our daughter.
“I spoke to three other women. We’ve compared dates,” she said.
Now I understood why he sometimes insisted on going without me.
When Paige said the women had compared dates, I felt another piece of our ordinary Saturdays disappear. Donavan had always offered to take Valerie out so I could rest. I’d thanked him for it.
Now I understood why he sometimes insisted on going without me, even when I suggested joining them. I’d mistaken those trips for kindness. Valerie had been having entirely different afternoons from the ones I’d imagined.
He’d told each woman a different story: divorced and overseas, hospitalized, abandoned, dead.
“It’s ridiculous,” he replied.
“Four women, including Paige,” I said. “All while married to me.”
He glared at her. “You had no right to contact them.”
“They had a right to know,” Paige replied.
I read their messages. He’d told each woman a different story: divorced and overseas, hospitalized, abandoned, dead.
“I didn’t know how to explain things.”
