He was planning a life without me. And he wasn’t even hiding it good.
When I checked our joint bank account, my stomach dropped. The numbers blurred with tears.
Most of the money was gone, moved to accounts in his name only. The money rug was pulled out from under me, just like the marriage.
I didn’t want Nora to see me break down, so after tucking her in, I went to the garage, sat on the cold floor, and cried till my throat hurt. The quiet space swallowed every sob.
When Garrett came home late, smelling like perfume and beer, I acted normal. I smiled, kissed his cheek, and asked about his “day at work.”
“Just the usual,” he said, not looking at me. “Long meetings, boring clients.” The lie came out too easy.
He bought my act completely.
But the next morning, while he left for work, I took a personal day. Instead of going to work, I drove straight to a lawyer’s office. My hands shook on the wheel the whole way.
The lawyer, Mr. Peterson, was a nice guy in his fifties who listened as I told him about the photos, the money moves, and Nora’s confession about missing school. He nodded serious and pulled out a yellow notepad.