Page 19 of The Liar I Married

SIXTEEN

I’ve been spending far too much time searching through the diary.

It’s becoming an obsession. The private detective has been evasive.

He completely refused to discuss the case with me and share any findings he had given to my grandmother.

I offered him a substantial retainer for the information and even showed him the letter but he made it abundantly clear that he would not help me discover the truth.

I’ve since placed the investigation into the hands of my own private investigator but my funds are limited until the estate goes through probate.

As my grandmother’s concerns have been consuming my waking moments, I’m glad Michael encouraged me to join the art classes.

It’s been great to get out of the house and meet new people.

I hadn’t realized so many of the residents of our gated community are in my age bracket.

I went one day and now I go three or four times a week to work on my mess-terpiece.

I admit it is a mess, although I find the process strangely compelling or perhaps it’s the people and being able to talk about anything other than work and children.

The man who works beside me is incredibly creative.

The landscape evolving from under his brush needs no instruction from anyone.

Me? Well, I’m constantly asking the teacher if she will offer me advice on how to do this or that.

It will take time but I’m getting the hang of it.

The handsome man working beside me is Alex, a published author and working on his next bestseller.

He claims to use his time at the art studio as his thinking time.

Immersing himself into his art is a creative process that relaxes his mind.

I find him fascinating; not in a physical attraction way, but because he’s so different from anyone else I’ve ever met.

His views of the world are simplistic and not dominated by money.

Living in a family of stockbrokers my entire life means conversation is about business and it’s refreshing to talk about other things like his trips overseas.

I’ve been going to lunch with him after our sessions and it’s totally innocent.

I laugh a lot at his antics. He listens to me and remembers everything I’ve told him.

It’s like having a second brother. My time at the art studio is giving my life meaning again.

I’ve enjoyed myself so much I’ve completely forgotten it’s my birthday.

I arrive home and discover a red SUV parked in the driveway with a big blue bow.

I climb out of my old GMC and stare at it in disbelief.

The front door is flung open and John steps out. I don’t ever recall him coming home at lunchtime. I smile at him. “What are you doing home? Has the office burned down or something?”

“I wanted to be here when your birthday present arrived. I can’t stay too long.” John comes to my side and slips an arm around my shoulder. “Happy birthday, Jessie.” He hands me a set of keys and then presses a kiss to my cheek.

I’ve never liked the color red and John is aware of this, so I’m a little confused about his choice but not wanting to appear ungrateful I turn and give him a bright smile. “It’s wonderful, thank you.”

“Where have you been all day?” John flicks a gaze over me and his nose wrinkles. “Have you been dumpster diving or something? Or do I need to increase your allowance to buy some decent clothes?”

My allowance . Yes, I know it sounds terrible for a wife to have an allowance but it’s something that a husband intent on controlling every cent insists on.

It’s not as if we’re short of money; in fact, we’re considered wealthy.

It’s just something he has inside him. I recall when we first married, he told me to make every cent count.

I had no idea at the time how controlling he would be.

I nod, agreeing to his question. “Yes, an increase of my allowance would be good. There are a few things I need extra this month. I’ve been taking art classes.

It helps pass the time when you’re working and I get to speak to other people rather than sit at home alone all the time. ”

“You have friends at the tennis club, and it means you get plenty of exercise.” John examines my face. “They’re the sort of people that you need to mix with. I don’t know any of the people at the art class. If you require lessons, you should be getting them from a professional not a local society.”

I move the car keys from hand to hand. They’re still warm from John’s pocket.

“John, it’s just a bit of fun, a break from the monotony of life.

You should try it sometime.” I walk toward the vehicle and I’m suddenly nervous.

It’s way more powerful than my old one. I open the door and peer inside.

It has that new car smell. “Everyone is driving these at the moment, they’re very popular. ”

“I’m glad you like it.” John has a satisfied look on his face. “I need to get back to the office. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t wait up.”