Divorcing my dead sister's husband

ts, and pictures that made my stomach turn. Indisputable evidence. "How certain are you about this?"Janet leaned against my kitchen island and asked, holding a glass of wine. I f

s is my CAREER," he shouted. I heard something shatter in the background. "Everything I've worked for" "And I gave you everything I had," I said quietly. "My twenties. My trust. My Child. So I guess we're both experiencing loss." "You vindictive bitch." The words should have hurt, but they didn't. I'd already felt all the pain he could inflict. "Chen, Westover, Patterson, Goldstein, they all got copies?" he finally asked. "Yes." "Fuck." Another crash. "I'll sue you for this, Daniela. Defamation. Interference with business relationships. My lawyer will" "Go ahead," I interrupted. "Discovery would be fascinating. All those hotel receipts. The gifts are charged to your business account. I'm sure the IRS would love to see those too." Silence, broken only by his ragged breathing. "You wouldn't." "I already did the hard part. What makes you think I'd stop now?" I hung up and placed my phone on the nightstand, then walked to the window. The city lights blurred through my tears, but they weren't sad tears. Something else entirely. My phone began buzzing again. Text after text rolling in. I ignored it. Tomorrow, three more packages will be opened. Tomorrow, more calls will come. More consequences. For the first time in months, I slept through the night. Janet brought coffee and bagels the next morning, letting herself in with the spare key. "You look... different," she said, studying my face. "Good different." I accepted the coffee. "I feel lighter." "Chen called you?" "And Alex. Multiple times." She settled beside me on the couch. "What did that bastard say?" "Called me a vindictive bitch. Threatened to sue." I took a sip, the hot liquid burning pleasantly down my throat. "I'm not interested in whatever excuses or threats he's crafting." My phone buzzed again on the coffee table. Janet glanced at the screen. "Westover," she read. "That was fast." I nodded. "The others should be opening their packages right about now." "Are you going to answer any of them?" I considered the question as I spread cream cheese on my bagel. "Maybe. Not today, though." Janet kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her. "Remember when I caught him at that bar downtown last year? With that redhead?" "And he said she was a client." I nodded. "I believed him." "We're all fools," Janet said softly. "Not anymore." I dip