I hired a private investigator for eleven days. I want to be clear. I did not enjoy this. It felt like a violation even though I was the one being violated—like using a scalpel on yourself because the surgeon can’t be trusted. His name was Darnell, was thorough and unbothered. He confirmed what I already knew and added several things I didn’t.
Darnell’s report ran to fourteen pages. I read it once in my car in the parking garage below our office, then locked it in my desk and didn’t touch it for a week. The photographs were the hardest part. I expected them to show a certain way, but Gary was smiling in them. That unguarded smile, the one I thought was only mine.