“I need it for the insurance.”
“The accountant needs a copy.”
I had trusted him.
Why wouldn’t I?
He was my husband.
Then I noticed something.
The dates.
Some of the documents were created months before Daniel told me he wanted a divorce.
One was dated eight months before he moved out.
Another was dated almost a year before he announced that he was unhappy.
I sat back in my chair.
Daniel hadn’t suddenly decided to leave.
He had been preparing.
My phone rang.
Chloe.
I almost didn’t answer.
“What did you find?” she asked.
“How long have you known?”
“I found out three days ago.”
“Why did you call me?”
She was silent.
Then she said, “Because I found something with my name on it too.”
We met that afternoon at a coffee shop.
For the first time, I saw Chloe without the designer clothes, perfect makeup, and confident smile from her social media.
She looked exhausted.
“I thought Daniel was wealthy,” she said.
“He told me he had investments.”
I didn’t say anything.
“He bought the house in both our names.”
That surprised me.
“Both?”
She nodded.
“At least that’s what he told me.”
Then she placed a folder on the table.
