Sloane, it’s almost ten. You should go home.
I laughed bitterly.
Home where, Dad? In the apartment I left? In the house I shared with Julian? Or at your place, where I’ve been sleeping for a week like a teenager who’s just been dumped?
Dad’s close.
“At home is where you can sleep without fearing that someone is lying to you.
I turned to him.
How could you see what he was doing, and I didn’t?
He sighed.
Because I was looking at the numbers. You were looking at the man you loved.
I started to cry.
I feel so stupid.
My father hugged me.
You made reliable and financial control mistakes. We’re gonna correct them. But don’t confuse that you trusted your husband with proof that you are not capable of running your life.
I was left with my forehead supported by his shoulder.
It was the first time I had cried after the divorce.
