Her words were like a punch to the gut. David Morrison, my son-in-law. The man I had welcomed into my family. The man who had promised to protect her, to love her. And now, he had taken it all away.
I didn’t know how to process what I was hearing. Emma had always been proud of the house she inherited from her late mother, Catherine. It had been her sanctuary, the place where she had built a life with David. And now, that sanctuary had been ripped away from her, and she was left with nothing but the remnants of a marriage that had crumbled in the most heartless way possible.
I got her into my car, her body feeling too light in my arms as I helped her stand. I drove her back to my house, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to keep calm for her sake. We didn’t speak much. I didn’t need to ask for details. The devastation in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.
At home, I ran her a hot bath, fed her a warm meal, and tucked her into her old bed—the same bed she had slept in as a little girl. She fell asleep almost instantly, as if her body had given up its fight to stay awake, finally succumbing to exhaustion and grief.
I stayed up all night, sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the phone charging beside my coffee. Emma’s phone. The one David had presumably used to orchestrate his betrayal. When it finally powered on, the truth came crashing down on me in an instant.
