Derek did not want Olivia hearing the recording alone.
Olivia did not want Derek deciding that for her.
They resolved the disagreement in under thirty seconds.
That itself would once have been impossible.
They listened together at Rebecca’s office.
Harris remained present.
The recording had been recovered from Sloan’s computer.
Apparently he recorded some client calls automatically.
Marjorie’s voice came first.
“She’s asking about the property again.”
Sloan answered.
“Then Derek needs to control his wife.”
Derek’s face tightened.
Olivia’s expression remained still.
Marjorie said, “He won’t.”
“Why not?”
“He hates conflict.”
Sloan laughed.
“That’s useful.”
Derek looked down.
Marjorie continued.
“Not anymore.”
“What changed?”
“Olivia.”
Her name sounded strange in the old recording.
“She keeps asking him why I need documents. Why I need signatures. Why I have his tax information.”
Sloan asked, “Does she know about Cedar Ridge?”
“No.”
“Kline?”
“No.”
“Then keep it that way.”
Marjorie went quiet.
Then said, “She’s going to leave him.”
Derek looked toward Olivia.
The recording predated her formal separation planning.
Sloan asked, “Why do you care?”
“He loves her.”
The answer surprised everyone.
Marjorie continued.
“And if she leaves because of me, he’ll never forgive me.”
Derek closed his eyes.
Even then, she had known.
Sloan said, “Then make him think she’s the problem.”
Silence.
Olivia’s hands tightened.
Marjorie replied, “How?”
Sloan began offering suggestions.
Emphasize Olivia’s distrust.
Describe questions as controlling.
Tell Derek his wife resented his family.
Create small conflicts.
Make Olivia look unreasonable.
If she objected to Marjorie’s presence, visit more often and frame resistance as hostility.
Derek’s jaw tightened with every sentence.
Many of those things had happened.
Marjorie asked, “And then what?”
“She either stops asking or leaves.”
Marjorie said nothing.
Sloan continued.
“Either outcome solves your problem.”
The recording went quiet for several seconds.
Then Marjorie said:
“I don’t want her to leave.”
Derek looked up.
Sloan sounded irritated.
“Then what do you want?”
“I want her to stop looking.”
“That may not be possible.”
“She’s good for him.”
Olivia’s eyes filled despite herself.
Marjorie continued.
“He’s happier with her.”
Derek stared at the table.
“Then choose,” Sloan said.
Marjorie’s voice became almost inaudible.
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can.”
“If Derek learns what I did, I lose him.”
“If Olivia keeps looking, Derek learns.”
Silence.
Sloan finished:
“So decide which relationship matters more.”
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Derek had expected proof that Marjorie hated Olivia.
Instead he heard something more painful.
Marjorie knew Olivia was good for him.
Knew Derek loved her.
Knew her own conduct threatened their marriage.
And still participated in undermining it because exposure frightened her more.
Olivia stood and walked toward the window.
Derek stayed seated.
He did not approach.
After a while she said, “She knew.”
“Yes.”
“She knew I wasn’t trying to take you away.”
“Yes.”
“She knew why I was asking questions.”
“Yes.”
“And she still made me look crazy.”
Derek’s voice broke slightly.
“Yes.”
Olivia turned.
“And you believed her.”
He met her eyes.
“Yes.”
No defense.
No explanation.
That mattered, but it did not make the pain smaller.
Olivia wiped her face.
“I need to go.”
Derek nodded.
“Okay.”
He did not ask where.
Did not ask whether she wanted company.
She left.
Derek remained with Rebecca and Harris.
Sloan’s recording strengthened evidence that Marjorie knowingly participated in concealment and manipulation.
Whether every suggestion constituted a crime was another matter.
Derek barely cared at that moment.
His marriage had been discussed like a tactical obstacle.
His mother had sat on the call and listened.
Rebecca closed the laptop.
“You don’t need to stay.”
Derek looked at her.
“I know.”
He went to the shop.
Carlos found him reorganizing tools that were already organized.
“That bad?”
“Yes.”
“Want to talk?”
“No.”
“Good. I’m terrible at it.”
Carlos began working beside him.
Twenty minutes passed.
Then Derek said, “Mom knew Olivia was good for me.”
Carlos kept sorting sockets.
“That seems obvious.”
“She knew Olivia was right.”
Carlos stopped.
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
Derek told him about the recording.
Carlos listened.
Then said, “You know what part you’re going to get stuck on?”
“What?”
“Why she did it.”
Derek frowned.
Carlos continued.
“You’re going to keep digging for a reason that makes the choice feel different.”
Derek stared.
“When did you become wise?”
“I watch television.”
Derek almost smiled.
Carlos returned to the tools.
“Maybe reasons matter. Maybe they don’t. But at some point, she still did it.”
Derek nodded.
“I know.”
“Then stop making yourself solve her before you’re allowed to feel angry.”
Derek looked at him.
That sentence stayed.
Olivia did not contact Derek that evening.
He did not contact her.
The next morning she sent one message.
Need a few days.
Derek replied:
Okay.
Nothing else.
No question mark.
No reassurance request.
No fear disguised as concern.
He hated every hour of those days.
He respected them anyway.
During that time, Marjorie’s attorney contacted Derek.
Marjorie wanted him to know she had remembered the Sloan conversation before police found it and had intended to disclose it.
Derek declined to respond.
Intended.
The family’s favorite word.
At his individual therapy session, he said, “I’m angry enough that I don’t want to see her again.”
The therapist asked, “Forever?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then don’t decide forever today.”
Derek leaned back.
“I’m tired of temporary answers.”
“Temporary answers are often more honest.”
He hated that.
Again.
Marjorie eventually provided a written statement about Sloan.
She admitted following some of his advice.
Visiting more often.
Complaining to Derek about Olivia.
Characterizing Olivia’s questions as disrespect.
Creating conflicts over holidays.
Derek remembered every one.
Christmas dinner.
Marjorie claiming Olivia excluded her.
The Sunday brunch argument.
The bank incident.
The apology Derek forced Olivia to make.
Each memory changed under the new evidence.
Not fabricated from nothing.
Manipulated.
Marjorie had taken real friction and sharpened it deliberately.
That distinction mattered.
Derek gave the statement to Dr. Mercer before the next couples session.
Olivia attended.
She looked exhausted.
But she came.
Dr. Mercer asked whether they wanted to discuss the recording.
Olivia said yes.
Derek said, “Only if she wants to.”
Olivia looked at him.
“I said yes.”
“Right.”
Old overprotection.
He noticed.
Stopped.
Olivia began.
“I don’t know what to do with the fact that Marjorie liked me.”
Derek almost laughed at the absurdity.
“I know.”
“If she hated me, this would make sense.”
“Yes.”
“But she thought I was good for you.”
“Yes.”
Dr. Mercer asked, “Why does that matter?”
Olivia thought.
“Because I spent years assuming if I could just prove I wasn’t her enemy, she would stop.”
Derek looked at her.
Olivia continued.
“She already knew.”
Her eyes filled.
“There was nothing I could have done.”
Dr. Mercer nodded.
“That sounds painful.”
“It’s also relieving.”
Derek frowned.
Olivia looked at him.
“I wasn’t failing to win her over.”
“No.”
“She needed me quiet, not lovable.”
Derek closed his eyes.
That was exactly it.
Dr. Mercer turned to him.
“What are you feeling?”
“Guilty.”
“About?”
“I kept asking Olivia to be nicer.”
Olivia looked down.
“I told her if she made more effort, Mom would relax.”
His voice tightened.
“I made her responsible for fixing a conflict Mom was deliberately creating.”
Olivia wiped her eyes.
“Yes.”
Derek looked toward her.
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
No immediate forgiveness.
No “it’s okay.”
It was not okay.
Dr. Mercer asked Olivia what she needed from Derek now.
“I need him not to make his mother’s progress my responsibility either.”
Derek listened.
“If Marjorie changes, I don’t want to hear that as an argument for contact.”
“You won’t.”
“If she apologizes, I decide whether I read it.”
“Yes.”
“If she gets sick—”
Derek’s face changed involuntarily.
Olivia noticed.
“That one is harder.”
“Yes.”
“Then say that.”
Derek breathed.
“If she gets sick, I may want to help.”
“Okay.”
“But I won’t assume you have to.”
Olivia nodded.
“That’s what I needed.”
The conversation shifted.
Not toward Marjorie.
Toward fear.
Derek admitted Olivia’s request for several days had terrified him.
“I thought you were done.”
“I almost was.”
His face changed.
Olivia continued.
“Not because of you now.”
“I know.”
“Because hearing that recording brought back how alone I felt.”
Derek swallowed.
“I thought maybe staying married meant staying attached to all of it forever.”
“That’s fair.”
Dr. Mercer asked, “What made you come today?”
Olivia looked at Derek.
“He left me alone.”
Derek frowned.
She smiled faintly.
“I asked for space. He gave it.”
He looked down.
“That was horrible.”
“I know.”
“But you did it.”
“Yes.”
“And I noticed.”
Derek looked at her again.
Something warm and painful passed between them.
At the end of the session, Olivia said, “I want to pause the divorce process.”
Derek went completely still.
She raised a hand immediately.
“Pause.”
“Yes.”
“Not cancel.”
“Yes.”
“Not move back.”
“Yes.”
“Not pretend everything is fixed.”
“Yes.”
Dr. Mercer watched him.
Derek smiled despite tears gathering in his eyes.
“Okay.”
Olivia laughed softly.
“There it is.”
He wiped his face.
“I’m trying not to make this a milestone.”
“It is one.”
“Can I acknowledge it?”
“You may acknowledge it.”
“Thank you.”
They left together.
Outside, Olivia stopped beside his truck.
“I want to see the apartment.”
“You’ve seen it.”
“I mean with the possibility of living there again eventually.”
Derek stared.
“Eventually.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Whenever you want.”
She looked at him.
“Tomorrow?”
His heart accelerated.
“Tomorrow.”
The next evening, Olivia walked through the apartment differently.
Not as someone collecting belongings.
As someone evaluating whether safety could exist there again.
She opened cabinets.
Looked at the new locks.
Asked about the security system.
Derek answered.
No defensiveness.
In the kitchen, she found the brass key still hanging.
She took it down.
Derek stopped breathing.
Olivia held it.
“This doesn’t mean I’m moving back.”
“I know.”
“It means I want access.”
“Yes.”
“My access.”
“Yes.”
“Not your mother’s old idea of access.”
“No.”
She placed the key in her purse.
Derek’s eyes filled.
Olivia noticed.
“Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m absolutely going to make it weird privately.”
She laughed.
Then kissed him.
Briefly.
The first kiss since she left.
Derek did not reach for her until she touched his arm again.
Then he kissed her back.
When they separated, Olivia looked almost startled.
“So.”
“So.”
“That happened.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Still not moving back.”
“I know.”
His phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
Olivia glanced toward the counter.
“You can check.”
“No.”
“It might matter.”
Derek looked.
Message from Harris.
Sloan had agreed to provide a formal statement.
Derek opened it.
One line from Harris:
He says Marjorie was not the person who first gave Cedar Ridge access to your family.
Derek stared.
Olivia read his face.
“What?”
He showed her.
The fragile warmth of the room changed.
Not vanished.
Changed.
Another layer remained.
And according to Sloan, it began before Marjorie’s first loan.
Click here to continue reading: PART 28: Daniel Sloan’s Statement Revealed Thomas Had Introduced Cedar Ridge to the Hale Family, Turning the Beginning of the Disaster Into One Final Test of Derek’s New Perspective
My Mother Called From a Grocery Store Furious About a Declined Card That Never Belonged to Her
Part 27 of 35
