Chapter 5 - THE LETTER FROM HIS LAWYER
Andrew placed a white envelope on the counter.
My name was typed across the front.
Inside was a letter from an attorney named Gregory Sloan.
The letter claimed Andrew possessed an equitable interest in the property because marital income had contributed to mortgage payments, renovations, taxes, and maintenance.
It also warned me not to sell, transfer, refinance, or remove him from the residence.
I read it twice.
Andrew watched my face.
“You see?”
“What exactly am I supposed to see?”
“You don’t get to make decisions by yourself.”
I folded the letter.
“You apparently thought you did.”
He lowered his voice.
“Claire, we can still handle this reasonably.”
Michael made a disgusted sound.
Andrew ignored him.
“I made mistakes.”
“Eleven months is not one mistake.”
“Brooke and I got too close.”
“You took her to my cottage.”
“Our cottage.”
“The cottage belonged to my grandmother.”
“I’ve maintained it for years.”
“You replaced one dock board.”
His face reddened.
Lorraine stepped in.
“He has done plenty for you.”
I looked at her.
“Name five things.”
She could not.
I turned back to Andrew.
“What were you planning to do with the refinance money?”
He hesitated.
That pause mattered.
“Consolidate debt.”
“Which debt?”
“Business investments.”
“You told me your company had no personal investment requirement.”
He looked away.
Michael suddenly pulled another page from his envelope.
“You might want to ask him about this.”
The document was a screenshot from Brooke’s phone.
Andrew had sent her a photograph of a lakeside property listing near Skaneateles.
Beneath it, he had written:
Once the money clears, we put twenty percent down and start over.
Brooke replied:
What about Claire?
Andrew:
She’ll be too busy fighting Mom over the house to notice where the cash went.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Lorraine whispered.
“Andrew?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“It wasn’t finalized.”
I felt strangely calm.
“You were going to borrow against my home to buy another house with another man’s wife.”
“Claire, listen.”
“No.”
I took out my phone.
I called a divorce attorney recommended by a physician at my clinic.
Her assistant offered an emergency consultation that afternoon.
Andrew’s expression shifted when he heard me confirm the appointment.
“Don’t do something stupid because you’re emotional.”
I looked at the dent upstairs.
The photographs.
The fraudulent application.
The letter from his attorney.
“I’ve spent seven years doing nothing because I was emotional.”
May you like
I picked up the green folder.
“Now I’m going to start using documents.”
