The Private Serials Box Set(9)
I spent the entire night awake, resting in that bed, replaying what I’d seen in my head. At one point, I felt a single tear slide down the side of my face and onto my hands, but I hadn’t realized I was crying and it didn’t last long.
My feelings fluctuated from being angry with Derrek, to being disappointed in myself. One moment I was mad at him for cheating on me, and the next I was angry with him for not just asking for a divorce before he built a whole new family, a whole new life. I was angry with myself, too, perhaps even more than I was with Derrek. I’d done this to myself, set myself up for this, made myself a victim.
When the sunlight started streaking through the window, I decided to get out of bed and start my day. I wasn’t surprised Derrek hadn’t come home. He’d looked like he was pretty settled where he had been. I listened all night for the sounds of him coming into the house, but everything was silent. Most of me was glad he hadn’t come home, for I hadn’t quite figured out what my plan of action was.
I went into our large closet that resembled more of a dressing room than a closet. I found my favorite jogging outfit, pulled it on, and sat on the bench to lace up my jogging shoes. Standing in front of the vanity, I swiped raven hair back from my face and affixed it in a tight ponytail at the back of my head.
When I left the house, I put the passcode into the security system and shut the door behind me. I stopped on the driveway to stretch a little before I took off. There was a treadmill in the gym inside the house, but I never ran on it. Derrek bought it a few years ago and I thought it was silly. I would much rather run outside than on an endless loop facing a wall. When I felt sufficiently warmed up, I started with a small jog up the street. I had a particular route I liked to take and if I ran the loop twice, it was equal to about four miles.
About halfway into my run, I started to feel the freedom I was searching for, the endorphin rush that catapulted me into a space in my mind where I could think clearly.
Derrek no longer loved me; that thought made itself abundantly clear. Surprisingly, once I’d thought it, I realized I had known it for a while. He tolerated me, at best. And although I didn’t know if I was still in love with him, I knew things were far from where they’d started. But with all the new information, I knew my plan to try and resurrect our relationship was no longer an option. I needed a new plan.
So I kept running. I reached the four-mile mark and just kept going, hoping for more of that clarity I sought on my runs. Around mile six I stopped, breaths ragged and panting in and out at a rapid pace, with sweat dripping down my forehead. I was bent over, hands on my knees, thoughts racing through my brain.
I was exactly where I thought I’d safeguarded myself against being. This was what I had thought I was planning against. And he was pushing me out. Well, f*ck that and f*ck him. My house was just a few blocks up and I sprinted the entire way there. When I made it to the front door, I entered the passcode on the doorknob and after hearing the beep indicating the alarm system had been deactivated, I opened the door and stormed in.
I went straight for his office, my feet loudly stomping down the hallway. When I reached the office, I flung open the door and wasted no time heading to his desk. Pulling open drawers, I swept everything out, throwing all the contents on the floor. Not looking for anything in particular, just looking to make a mess, needing to take my anger out on something.
When all the drawers were empty, I moved on to the filing cabinet, finding that tossing papers over my shoulder and up in the air relieved almost as much tension as running. Taking something of his and destroying it was liberating and admittedly, made me feel better.
When I found myself ankle deep in forms and documents, breath heaving, hands shaking, I decided I’d done enough damage. I had visions of myself throwing his desktop out of the bay window behind me, but truth be told, I wasn’t normally a destructive person and knew that would be going a little overboard.
I did, however, pull back his plush desk chair, rolling it over piles of papers, hearing the wheels crackling over my husband’s hard work, and sat down. I wiggled the mouse to wake up the computer and then opened up a browser and went straight to Google. I typed in the words ‘private investigator’. I was flooded with results and went back to narrow down my search. I clicked in the text box again and added the word ‘Portland’. I hit enter and new results popped up. I scrolled down the page, my eyes gliding over all the information, and I realized I had no idea what I was looking for. One private investigator was just the same as the next, right? I found one listing that said ‘PDX Investigates’. I clicked on the link and was brought to a professional looking webpage that claimed the company was licensed and bonded. I had no clue what that meant, but it sounded official enough to me.
Standing, I then jogged to my bedroom, grabbed my cell phone, then jogged back to the computer and dialed the number.
“PDX Investigates. This is Todd. How can I help you?”
“Uh, hi, Todd. My name is Lena and I’m looking for some help. I need someone to find out some information for me about my husband.”
“What kind of information are we talking about?” Todd asked, sounding busy and a little annoyed.
“Well, I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on me and I’d like someone to help me find out for sure. I need irrefutable proof.”
“Sure. We offer a free consultation, but if you decide to hire us to help, the rate is two hundred dollars an hour with a two thousand dollar retainer. Depending on how complicated your case is, we would either bill you monthly for the balance should you exceed your retainer, or refund you what’s left if we wrap it up easily.”