Four Minute Phone Call Exposed My Husband and My Best Friend
I looked out the window at the gray water of the Duwamish Waterway. A barge was moving slowly through the shipping lane, its outline nearly lost in the heavy mist.
“He thinks I am weak because of what happened after the miscarriages,” I said, my voice flat. “He thinks because I saw that counselor he chose, he can use those session notes to make me look like I cannot manage my own life.”
“He has been building that file for over a year,” James said, pointing to the thick blue folder on the corner of his desk. “He was planning this long before Monica got pregnant. He wanted a legal safety net so he could break your prenuptial agreement when the trust cleared.”
“We cannot give him time to prepare,” I said. “We need to catch him when he is completely certain he has won.”
James watched me, his face unreadable. “What are you thinking, Laura?”
“The distribution is set for Tuesday,” I said, looking back at the signed delivery receipt. “But I am going to tell him I want to sign the papers tomorrow morning. I am going to tell him I am capitulating.”
