There were photographs.

I made myself look at all of them, once, the way you make yourself look at a wound before you decide what to do about it.

And then I reached the last page, and the last page was the one that did the real damage, because it was not about the affair at all.

It was a prenatal care invoice — Selina’s — charged to a Vance Global executive medical account.

My husband was funding his mistress’s pregnancy out of the company my father built, during the same quarter he stood in front of our employees and told them that layoffs, real ones, families losing their income before the holidays, were regrettably necessary to keep the business healthy.