The Color of Love (Part 3) | 20 October 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2531 | Prompt: lack of credibility

Part 2:
Alone, Frederick chided himself for not addressing the issue with his wife immediately concerning the rumors; opting to wait until he gathered more evidence.

Remembering the day he stood in Jackson's office hearing damaging rumors about Anita, the realization came when he read the information the company investigator uncovered. Page after page of evidence revealed a scam ring involving art and literature of dozens of people situated in various countries.

One lingering question. What was Anita's part and how was she connected?

Nervous at the thought of confronting his wife before she left on business, he decided to gather additional information on his own. He remembered Anita's private laptop.

Careful not to disturb her meticulous office, he searched until the found the compact device hidden in a bottom drawer under a stack of manuscripts. He'd no time to figure out why the secrecy.

He headed toward the opposite side of the apartment to his home office. There, he discovered Anita hadn't applied a password or encrypted her files. Perhaps she thought me too stupid to look, he reasoned with a somber expression.

Frederick sat slowly comparing notes and matching up a huge portion of the information from the investigator with the time frames in her files. There among the files on her laptop was undeniable evidence of her foreign ties to individuals in the art and literary underworld.

Deflated and disgusted, he remembered reading her stories with joy and pride as a writer. She was making a fool of me was his conclusion. Thoughts turned to their personal relationship. Did she marry me as a cover and to further her career and illegal activities?

Returning, Frederick pushed the information aside and curled up on his small office couch. Immediately, an idea surfaced. Thankful it was a Wednesday, he called and made arrangements for two-days vacation to further his research.

Two days later, Anita returned.

Now, Part 3:

Armed with partial truths, Frederick drew in a long, deep breath. Only Anita could fill in the gaps. Wringing his hands and pacing the living room floor, he paused to push his hack from his forehead, then cupped his head in his hand.

With his speech rehearsed; physical evidence organized; and laptop opened to the matching dates and times, he was ready for the confrontation.

Frederick should have been ready. But he forgot the pretense part.

His greeting was the coldest Anita had experience during their five years of marriage. Even colder than their apartment's thermostat setting. Immediately, she knew something was amiss. A master at pretense herself, she followed through with her actions as usual.

"I didn't know you'd be home early. Hope you're not ill." She smiled and reached for him with what felt like a genuine embrace. Upon her release, his stiffness hadn't subsided. Something has happened, she surmised, as her she felt her pulse quicken.

It wasn't until she rounded the corner to her office that she jerked back as immediately she could tell her private space had been disturbed. Instantly, she canvassed the room, a thousand thoughts racing that threatened to upset her composure. Her eyes caught the edge of her desk.

There lay a pile of documents that wasn't there when she left. Talking rapidly, she engaged in light conversation about her trip and meetings.

It wasn't lost on her that Frederick's eyes followed hers and settled on the papers.

She finished settling in. Frederick moved from behind her and sat in one of the empty chairs to face her. He motioned for her to sit at her desk. Anita frowned, then slowly moved to sit. As he pushed the papers toward her, she glanced up at him.

Without a word, she extracted the documents from the envelope. She read in silence.

Thirty minutes later, she smiled coyly avoiding his stare, but kept silent.

He waited.

By the look on Frederick's face, Anita knew her operation had been exposed.

It was unlike her to stammer. An excellent speaker and quick thinker, she was normally sure of her words and quick to gather her thoughts. It hadn't dawned on her that he would rummage through her office. Ever.

Looking away, Anita began quickly as if to catch Frederick off guard.

"I wouldn't put it past Jackson to attempt to drive a wedge between us. He's tried numerous times since we married. I think he's jealous."

Frederick was smart enough to know that when a person is caught in the act, deflection is the first line of defense. He indulged her statement.

"Jealous! of what? Don't be absurd, woman. We're friends and business partners. Nothing else! And anyone who insinuates anything else can go screw himself. Frederick couldn't believe he was addressing his wife in that tone. Immediately, he realized his mistake as she jerked her head around and stared into his mouth, which he immediately closed and glanced away.

"Then why does he refuse to start a relationship with anyone?"

That statement was the last straw. Frederick shook his head in disbelief, his mouth agape. He couldn't allow her to change the topic. But he felt compelled to clarify her absurd remark. The direction she was headed felt like a stab to his manhood.

"Are you saying Jackson is attracted to me and somehow wants to get with me?" He paused, looking directly at Anita with venom in his eye before he continued in a raised voice. "Then, what does that make me? Undercover!"

Sensing the conversation she attempted to steer elsewhere was about to backfire, she rose quickly to maneuver around the desk, and stood in front of him. She reached for his hands.

Frederick jerked them away, rose from his chair, then turned and left her office. From the coat closet, he grabbed his jacket. The next moment, Anita, who had followed him from her office, watched as the door slammed shut. He rushed into the elevator. The door closed. He banged his head against its wall.

Once outside, he felt sick at Anita's insinuation. He began walking down the sidewalk, then turned around. What the hell was that about? he questioned several times.

The answer came slowly as he looked out across the busy street beyond the tree-lined landscape of the nearby park. Wind blew leaves back in his direction as it tossed his hair.

Deflection it whispered. And the reason was guilty as rumored.

Turning swiftly, he headed back toward their apartment building. Anita ran to the door just as Frederick stepped inside. She hugged his neck, then covered him with kisses. She had to rectify her earlier statement. Frederick tugged on her arms until she released his neck, then backed away.

His head was clearer, and he knew the path he must take to the truth.

"It's over, Anita. I know some of it. I'd appreciate you providing the rest. You owe me that much, seeing how I advanced your career since we married."

The short time Frederick was outside, Anita had quickly completed scanning the evidence. All was laid bare, so she was ready and began slowly.

"It's only natural Jackson would counter with these trumped-up charges. It's all untrue. My work is original."

"Counter! What do you mean? God, Anita, tell the truth!," he yelled. "Are you saying these accusations with evidence are lies?" He stood watching her expression before divulging the fact he'd searched her laptop.

Writing from her experiences in her native country which he didn't know she had resided, was a total surprise. Someone was supplying her with stories and photos. Payments were exchanged in names unfamiliar to him. He waited for her to explain the exchange of stories.

"Of course, I exchange ideas with comrades abroad. A fairly common practice. What of it?" she stammered in a breath unlike her usual forceful and confident personality.

She continued in a steadier voice.

"I'm investigating Jackson's company for literary fraud as part of my job. That's why he's trying to get rid of me. Somehow I've been exposed. Yes, I admit to being a foreign agent. My work will be wrapped up when the final story is published. Of course, I'll have to leave the country. I was hoping you'd leave with me. My report completely exonerated you of any wrongdoing.

Frederick's hands flew to his temples. "This is total bullshit and nonsense you're trying to feed me. I'm your husband. I defended you. And you can't even come clean with me."

As if in torment, he jerked away from her and swung around. Who to believe? he pondered before stopping and questioning further, "where's your proof Jackson's business is a fraud used for money laundering? I've been with him for years. I can't believe..." He trailed off.

Frederick plopped down on the sofa and hung his head down. He sat on the horns of his dilemma, attempting to absorb and make sense of it all.

[to be continued.]

For my theme, I was inspired by and utilized the @daily.prompt's publishing of 20 october 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2531: lack of credibility.

Thanks so much for viewing my story. If you'd like to return the the beginning, below are the link to Chapters 1 - 2:

Part 1

Part 2