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“I was aware,” Patterson says, “that your mother married me for my money. I was in my forties, she was in her twenties and beautiful. I knew-everybody knew. I married her anyway.”

O sits and listens.

Patterson continues, “I knew that I was her second husband but wouldn’t be her last. It was all right with me-I was happy just to borrow her beauty for a few years.”

Borrow, O wonders, or rent?

“We didn’t have a prenuptial agreement,” Patterson says. “My family was furious, my lawyers more so, but Kim wouldn’t hear of it. I knew what I was doing, but money has never been my problem in life. One agreement that we did have, however, is that there would be no children.”

O winces.

“I was too old,” Patterson says, “and didn’t want to cut that ridiculous figure of the middle-aged father trying to keep up with a toddler. But there was more to it. I knew the marriage would never last and, as a child of divorce myself, I didn’t want to inflict that on another child.”

But you did, O thinks.

“I knew that she was unfaithful,” Patterson says. “She would be gone for long, unexplained hours. She would take little trips. I knew but I didn’t want to know, so I never pressed the issue. Until she informed me that she was pregnant.”

“With me,” O says.

Patterson nods.

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