Risking Trust by Adrienne Giordano

left to the small conference table with four chairs. He’d already pulled the two boxes of files from his safe—Vic called it the vault—and stacked them beside the table. The idea of Roxann going through the photos made his chest ache. Two women he’d loved in different ways and now, the one he’d never completely let go, had to study the evidence of his colossal fuck up of a marriage.
    “Those are the boxes?”
    “Yep. Two-and-a-half years of Alicia Taylor’s life.”
    She rose from her chair and moved to the table. “Wow.”
    “You probably don’t want to tackle it all in one sitting.”
    She didn’t answer. Only stared at those boxes. After a minute, she pulled her suit jacket off and draped it over one of the chairs. Ready to dig in.
    Michael boosted himself away from the desk and returned to his chair. This wouldn’t be any easier on him than it would be on her. Did humiliation ever sit well with anyone? He doubted it. But then, Roxann had always accepted him without passing judgment. For that alone, he’d adored her. Hopefully, she still had a little of that left in her. “Have you eaten?”
    “Not yet.”
    “I’ll order something. We’ll probably be here awhile.”
     
    After flagging several items to be looked at again, Roxann closed the file marked April and pushed it to the side. Each folder had to be over an inch thick and she would have to read through all of them. Two-and-a-half year’s worth. It would take days. She rolled her aching shoulders.
    She glanced at Michael, still at his desk, shirt sleeves rolled while he dealt with something on his laptop. His five o’clock shadow had come in and she suddenly remembered his need to shave twice a day if he were going out for the evening. The memory of scraping her fingers across his beard stubble roared back as if it had only been a day ago. How many times had she curled into his lap and dragged her hand over his cheek just to feel the texture? At twenty-three it had made her feel she’d had a real man by her side. One who would protect and take care of her. One who would stand by her when things got rough. He’d done neither by walking away and eventually marrying the woman in these photos.
    Michael must have sensed her study of him. “You okay?”
    Maybe she should ask him how he could have looked through these files. His wife had carried on blatant sexual affairs with prominent men and there were photos—explicit ones—to prove it.
    Roxann blew out a breath. “Have you seen all of these?”
    He didn’t answer, but wandered over to the table, sat and pawed through one of the boxes until he found a specific folder. After setting it on the table, he propped his chin in his hand, but continued to stare at the folder.
    “This one is the worst,” he said. “We’d been separated a few months when these were taken. She’d already started in on accusing me of all sorts of crap—adultery, emotional abuse, alienation of affection—you name it. None of which I ever did. Well, alienation of affection maybe. By the time we’d separated I could barely look at her, much less touch her. I’d decided to put someone on her to protect myself. And my money.”
    “Probably smart on your part.”
    He tapped the folder. “This was when I knew how vindictive she could be. Any good feelings I had left got blown to hell when I saw this folder.”
    Yikes. Morbid curiosity forced Roxann’s gaze to the folder. In comparison to what she’d already seen, what could be that bad?
    Michael put his hand flat on top of the folder. “I’ll give you a few minutes to look through it and then, if you want to discuss it, fine. If not, we’ll let it go.”
    What was with all the cloak and dagger stuff? “Should I be prepared for something here?”
    He shrugged. “These are photos of Alicia with a man you know. I’m not sure how much that man matters to you.”
    Right off, she could eliminate her father and Max because Michael knew what her relationship was