Ten Minutes Before I Married a Woman Thirty Years Younger Than Me, My Three-Year-Old Grandson Gripped My Hand and Whispered “Grandpa, She Hit Mommy” — Then He Pulled a Scratched Flash Drive From His Pocket, and What My Daughter Had Hidden on It Stopped the Wedding and Nearly Sent Me to a Honeymoon That Would Have Cost Me Everything
Chapter 7 — Changing My Tie
“Thomas, what are you doing in there?” Her voice strained to sound pleasant through the wood.
“Changing my tie.” “You’ve changed it twice already!” “Then this makes three.” There was a silence, and then the hard, sharp click of her heels retreating down the hall, and I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
I dialed Genevieve.
It rang and rang and went to voicemail.
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