Chapter 12 - The Policy
Rebecca did not panic.
That was why I was grateful she was there.
She asked Samantha for dates.
Documents.
Specifics.
Samantha had dated Julian four years earlier.
For eleven months.
“He wanted to get married very quickly,” she said.
“How quickly?” I asked.
“Three months.”
My father looked at me.
Julian had proposed to me after nine.
Samantha continued.
“He became obsessed with combining finances.”
“He told me separate accounts meant I didn’t trust him.”
The words were painfully familiar.
“What happened?”
“I found loan applications with my information.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did he forge your signature?”
“He said he was only checking what we might qualify for.”
“Did you report him?”
“No.”
Her voice carried embarrassment.
“I left.”
“I just wanted him gone.”
Rebecca asked, “What about the insurance?”
“Two months before we broke up, he mentioned spouses should always insure each other.”
“He pushed me to sign an application.”
“I refused.”
“He got furious.”
“Did he ever open one without your permission?”
“I don’t know.”
After the call, Rebecca immediately began contacting an insurance investigator she trusted.
I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the carpet.
My father crouched in front of me.
“Hey.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
I looked at him.
“What if I had stayed?”
He didn’t answer.
Neither did Rebecca.
That silence was worse than anything they could have said.
At 11:14 p.m., the investigator called back.
There was no active life insurance policy issued in my name by Julian.
I exhaled so hard I almost became dizzy.
But there had been an inquiry.
Three weeks earlier.
Someone had requested a quote for a $2 million term policy.
The proposed beneficiary was listed as spouse.
No policy had been finalized because medical authorization and my signature were missing.
Rebecca documented everything.
“We don’t know that Julian submitted it,” she cautioned.
But I did know.
Not legally.
Not yet.
Emotionally, I knew.
Then my father asked the question I had been avoiding.
“Are you going to the police?”
Rebecca answered before I could.
“We’re going tomorrow morning.”
I looked at her.
“For the bank?”
“For the bank, the impersonation email, the potential loan activity, and anything else the evidence supports.”
I nodded.
The wedding ring felt suddenly heavy.
I pulled it off.
There was a pale indentation around my finger.
Fourteen hours of marriage had already left a mark.
I placed the ring on the table.
My phone vibrated.
A voicemail.
Julian.
Rebecca played it on speaker.
His voice sounded exhausted.
“Elena, enough.”
“Come home.”
“We can work this out privately.”
“Whatever Caleb told you, he’s lying because he hates me.”
Then his tone sharpened.
“And if you involve the police or embarrass my family, don’t forget I’m your husband.”
“What happens to you happens to me.”
“What happens to your money happens to me too.”
The message ended.
My father stared at the phone.
Rebecca did not move.
Then she said quietly, “He still thinks marriage gives him rights it does not give him.”
May you like
I looked at the ring on the table.
“Then I think tomorrow is a good day for him to learn.”
