Chapter 2 - THE ANATOMY OF A BETRAYALEthan’s eyes swept across the room again, demanding an answer that no one wanted to give.
"Somebody tell me what is going on!" he shouted, taking a step toward Sienna. "Why are you wearing Eleanor's robe? Why was Julian taken out on a stretcher? What happened in that guest room?"
Sienna opened her mouth, stammering, looking frantically toward Beatrice for rescue, but Beatrice could only cover her face with trembling hands.
"I'll tell you what happened, Ethan," I said, my voice cutting through the tension like a scalpel.
I walked over to the mahogany console table, picked up the small blister pack of performance pills I had slipped back into Julian's jacket earlier, and held it out. The foil backing was half-peeled.
"Your brother told you he was working late at the office," I said, locking eyes with my shell-shocked brother-in-law. "And my husband told me he was too exhausted to touch me for six months. But apparently, they both found plenty of energy for each other—starting in the very bed you sleep in when you aren't doing overnight shifts."
Ethan froze. The color drained from his face so fast he looked like a ghost. He stared at the pill packet in my hand, then looked at Sienna, whose guilt was written in every terrified twitch of her face.
"No," Ethan whispered, shaking his head slowly, denying the reality crashing down on him. "No, that's... Sienna wouldn't. Julian is my brother."
"Your brother," I repeated with a bitter laugh, "who drained your family savings while you broke your back on construction sites. Did you really think those designer bags and diamond earrings came from a promotion at his firm, Ethan? Julian was funding her lifestyle to keep her quiet, and she was keeping him happy while he neglected me."
Sienna found her voice, shrill and desperate. "Don't listen to her, Ethan! She's lying! She’s mentally unstable, she wanted a divorce and she's framing us out of spite!"
"Shut up, Sienna," Ethan growled. The sound wasn't loud, but it carried the terrifying weight of a breaking dam.
He didn't look at Sienna anymore. His fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he stared at the floor. The illusion of brotherhood, family loyalty, and marital bliss dissolved in seconds, replaced by a raw, destructive fury.
"Where is he?" Ethan asked quietly.
"St. Jude’s Memorial," I answered. "Cardiac ward."
Without another word, Ethan turned on his heel, slammed the front door behind him, and peeled out of the driveway in his pickup truck, tires screeching against the asphalt.
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Beatrice wailed from the stairs. Sienna sank to the floor, sobbing hysterically into her knees.
And I walked upstairs to our master bedroom, locked the door, and opened my laptop. It was time to look at the bank accounts. Because the affair was only the beginning of what Julian had been hiding.
