Chapter 7 - BROOKE’S VERSION OF MY MARRIAGE
Brooke asked to meet.
I refused.
“Say whatever you need to say on the phone.”
She took a shaky breath.
“Andrew told me you had been separated emotionally for years.”
“That phrase means nothing.”
“I know that now.”
“He told me you slept in different rooms.”
“We didn’t.”
“He told me you were planning to move to Boston.”
“I have never discussed moving to Boston.”
Silence.
Then she said quietly.
“He told me the house belonged to him.”
Of course he had.
“He said you had refused to leave because you wanted money.”
I closed my eyes.
Andrew had built an entire imaginary marriage to justify destroying the real one.
Brooke continued.
“He said Lorraine was helping him pressure you into signing documents.”
My eyes opened.
“What documents?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brooke.”
“I swear.”
She started crying again.
I had no sympathy left for tears.
“What exactly did he say?”
“He said once you signed, the house situation would be settled.”
“Did he say how?”
“No.”
Then she remembered something.
“He called them estate planning documents once.”
My stomach tightened.
Andrew had used those exact words three weeks earlier.
He had left several papers near my coffee.
I had assumed they were connected to beneficiary updates.
I had not signed them because a patient emergency call came through and I left early.
“What happened to the papers?”
I asked.
Brooke paused.
“He said you refused.”
That frightened me more than anything else.
He had reported my decision to her.
That meant the documents mattered.
“Do you have messages about them?”
“Yes.”
“Send them.”
Within minutes, screenshots began arriving.
One message from Andrew read:
Claire blew off the paperwork again.
Another:
Mom thinks she can get her when she’s tired after work.
Then:
If Claire won’t transfer voluntarily, I’ll find another way.
I forwarded everything to Rachel.
Brooke remained on the line.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Andrew gave me a key to the lake cottage.”
I looked toward the window.
“He said it was his.”
“It isn’t.”
“I understand.”
“No, Brooke.”
My voice became quieter.
“You understand that you slept with my husband.”
“You do not yet understand what he was trying to steal.”
Before she could answer, the security camera notification sounded on my phone.
Someone was in my bedroom.
I opened the live feed.
May you like
Lorraine stood beside my nightstand.
And she was searching for the green folder.
