I thanked her and made my way to the pool area. I kept my sunglasses on, blending in like any other vacationer, until I spotted them.
Steve was lounging in a chair, shirtless and smug, sipping something out of a pineapple.
Beside him was her — Tessa — the same ex he used to say was “emotionally unstable” and “a chapter he was glad to close.”
Well, surprise. The chapter had reopened.
I walked up so calmly that they didn’t even notice me until my
Steve’s jaw moved, but no sound came out. Tessa had the decency to look ashamed — barely.
I turned on my heel and walked back toward the valet, dialing Carla — the same no-nonsense lawyer who’d helped me once before.
“He used our joint account to take his ex to a resort,” I said. “Can we file for divorce and fraud at the same time?”
“We absolutely can,” she replied.
That was all I needed to hear.
By the time I got back home, I’d already locked him out of the bank account, changed the locks, and forwarded the evidence to his boss — who, incidentally, did not appreciate Steve taking unauthorized time off and misusing the company credit card.
He lost the girl.
He lost the job.
And soon, he’d lose the house too.
And me?
Well, I finally booked myself a real vacation. First-class. No husbands allowed.
