I held his gaze without looking away.

Twelve months earlier, hearing an apology like that might have weakened my determination and persuaded me to forgive him immediately.

This time, however, the words felt insufficient.

“I believe you regret what happened that particular morning,” I answered evenly.

His expression tightened. “Claire, please—”

“But our marriage has problems that go far beyond one morning,” I continued calmly.

He lowered his gaze toward the tabletop. “You’re right about that.”

That brief acknowledgment sounded more sincere than many of the elaborate apologies he had delivered throughout our relationship.

I gathered the Crestview account statements and pushed them across the table. “I want you to explain these payments.”

Gavin examined the documents silently before leaning back and releasing a weary breath. “Those expenses belong to my Aunt Patricia.”

“Why have you been covering her expenses?” I asked.

He pressed a hand against his forehead. “Mom and Patricia haven’t spoken to each other in almost nine years.”

“What caused their disagreement?”

“They argued over their parents’ inheritance,” Gavin answered with obvious frustration.

Once again, I was hearing an all-too-familiar family story.

Another inheritance disagreement had divided relatives, allowing years of unresolved resentment to grow between them.

Gavin continued. “Aunt Patty developed serious health problems roughly two years ago. Her condition wasn’t terminal, but she needed major surgery and couldn’t return to work for months. Around the same time, the condominium association required every owner to contribute toward an enormous special assessment.”

“And you decided to help cover those expenses,” I concluded.

“Yes. I covered a considerable amount,” he admitted.

“Then why did you never tell me what was happening?” I asked.

“Because Mom would have been absolutely furious if she discovered I was financially supporting Patricia,” he confessed.

Chloe adjusted herself in her chair but said nothing.

Gavin looked directly at me. “And I also knew you’d question why I was using company funds to pay her expenses.”

“You mean money belonging to our company,” I corrected firmly.

He frowned, clearly confused by my response.

Samantha placed the company’s original shareholder registration paperwork in front of him.

Gavin lifted the document and began examining it.

His face became expressionless as he read the ownership details. “Where did this paperwork come from?”

“It’s the original incorporation documentation for the consulting company,” I explained.

“I don’t remember ever seeing these ownership percentages,” he said, shaking his head.

“Your signature appears on the last page,” I reminded him.

“I recognize my signature, but I assumed—” His words suddenly stopped.

Samantha intervened with professional composure. “You and Claire are the company’s only officially registered shareholders. Claire owns fifty-one percent, giving her a controlling interest.”

Gavin stared at me in astonishment, almost as though he suspected I had secretly changed the arrangement overnight. “I genuinely didn’t know that.”

“I only learned about it this morning myself,” I answered truthfully.

For one strange moment, we shared the same bewilderment about decisions made during the earliest years of our marriage.

Then I redirected our attention toward the statements. “You spent company funds covering your aunt’s personal expenses.”

“I always planned to reimburse the business for everything,” he responded immediately.

“And where exactly was that repayment supposed to come from?”

“From the performance bonus I expected after finalizing the Dalton contract.”

“Was that contract successfully finalized?” I asked, already aware of the outcome.

“No. We lost the deal,” he acknowledged.

“So rather than explaining that company finances were under pressure because you were helping Patricia, you kept asking me to contribute additional money toward our household bills.”

His shoulders dropped as he acknowledged the truth. “Yes, that’s what happened.”

“Why would you treat me that way?” I asked quietly.

He gave a weary laugh without any amusement. “Because I wanted everyone to believe I was capable of solving every problem on my own.”

“Keeping secrets and misusing business funds doesn’t solve anyone’s problems, Gavin.”

“I understand that now,” he murmured.

“No. You’re acknowledging it because the truth finally came out.”

He remained silent, accepting my words without attempting to argue.

Throughout the entire conversation, I had spoken in an even tone, without needing to raise my voice.

After considering my statement, he looked up. “I can’t argue with that.”

His unexpected willingness to accept responsibility surprised me.

For once, he appeared to have arrived without preparing another elaborate justification.

“And those expensive hotel bills?” I asked. “I want an explanation for them too.”

He briefly shut his eyes. “Most of those charges came from genuine business travel involving clients.”

“Most of them?” I repeated. “Then what about the remaining charges?”

“Three weekend hotel bookings were personal.”

“Who accompanied you on those weekends?” I asked plainly.

“Nobody, Claire. I stayed there by myself,” he replied quietly.

I waited for him to explain further.

Looking uncomfortable, he continued. “Sometimes, after we argued seriously, I reserved a hotel room for a night or two.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “But you told me those trips were urgent business appointments.”

“I did, and I regret lying to you.”

“So you were actually staying in hotels because you didn’t want to return home and face me?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“And the expensive restaurant bills?” I continued.

“Meetings with clients, meals for employees, and occasionally dinners by myself.”

The entire explanation was so unexpected that I nearly laughed.

For months, I had imagined countless possibilities involving secret relationships, hidden betrayals, and an entirely separate life.

Instead, Gavin had concealed something much more ordinary and, in some ways, even more disappointing.

He had never developed the ability to deal constructively with uncomfortable feelings or disagreements.

Whenever difficulties appeared, he avoided conversations, escaped to hotels, covered other people’s financial obligations, made promises he couldn’t keep, and returned with flowers.

He attempted almost anything except remaining present long enough to accept responsibility for his own choices.

“Why has your mother suddenly moved into the Maple Avenue house?” I asked next.

Gavin glanced toward Samantha before responding. “Her apartment lease recently ended.”