Chapter 2 - The Papers My Fiancé Never Told Me About
Logan stood in the kitchen staring at the frozen image on the laptop.
His mother looked away.
Abigail folded her arms.
“What papers?”
“Abby…”
“What papers, Logan?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“It isn't what you think.”
“That sentence usually means it is exactly what I think.”
Bernice stepped forward.
“You're twisting everything.”
Abigail laughed.
“You told me you had never been inside this apartment before.”
“I didn't say that.”
“You implied it.”
“That's not the point.”
“No.”
Abigail looked at Logan.
“The point is that you and your mother were discussing paperwork involving my property behind my back.”
Logan sighed.
“It's just a prenuptial agreement.”
Abigail frowned.
“I already agreed to a prenup.”
“Not that one.”
Her stomach tightened.
“What other one?”
Logan hesitated.
Bernice answered for him.
“A marital property agreement.”
Abigail stared at her.
“What does it do?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
Bernice smiled.
“Because you would overreact.”
Abigail opened her laptop again.
“Send me the document.”
Logan looked uncomfortable.
“It's at my office.”
“Then get it.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
He didn't move.
Abigail understood.
“You don't have it.”
Logan's silence confirmed it.
Bernice stepped in.
“Your attorney has it.”
“My attorney?”
“Yes.”
Abigail frowned.
“Which attorney?”
Bernice gave a name.
Abigail's face changed.
That attorney had been recommended by Logan.
She had only spoken to him once.
He had prepared the original prenup.
Something suddenly felt wrong.
Abigail called her own attorney.
Within ten minutes, she had the answer.
“There is no marital property agreement on file,” her attorney said.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Abigail hung up.
She looked at Logan.
“You lied.”
He looked down.
Bernice immediately became defensive.
“He was going to explain.”
“When?”
“After the wedding.”
“Why?”
Bernice's expression hardened.
“Because you're difficult.”
Abigail almost laughed.
Then her phone buzzed.
An email.
From an unknown sender.
One attachment.
PROPERTY TRANSFER AGREEMENT.pdf
Abigail opened it.
Her apartment.
Her investment accounts.
A vacation property.
Even a portion of her retirement savings.
The document transferred everything into a joint marital trust.
But there was a second clause.
If the marriage ended within five years, Logan would receive fifty percent of the trust.
Abigail stared at the screen.
She felt sick.
Logan finally spoke.
“I wasn't trying to steal from you.”
“Then what were you trying to do?”
“I wanted security.”
“You wanted half my life.”
“That isn't fair.”
“Neither is marrying someone under false pretenses.”
Bernice slammed her hand on the table.
“You're making this bigger than it is.”
Abigail looked at her.
“Why do you care so much about my property?”
Bernice froze.
Then Abigail noticed something.
The cardboard box Bernice had brought that morning.
She opened it.
Inside were old financial documents.
One belonged to Logan.
A debt statement.
Then another.
Then another.
Nearly $87,000 in personal debt.
Credit cards.
Loans.
Unpaid medical bills.
And a business loan.
Abigail looked at Logan.
“You're in debt.”
He looked away.
“How much?”
“It's complicated.”
“Eighty-seven thousand dollars isn't complicated.”
Bernice stepped forward.
“He's your fiancé.”
“So?”
“You should help him.”
Abigail shook her head.
“No.”
Bernice's face twisted.
“You selfish woman.”
“No.”
Abigail closed the box.
“I am the only person in this room who didn't know about the debt.”
Then she noticed another document.
A foreclosure notice.
The address wasn't Logan's.
It was Bernice's home.
Abigail looked at her.
“You're losing your house.”
Bernice went silent.
“That's why you need ten thousand dollars.”
No answer.
“And that's why you wanted me to sign the property agreement.”
Logan finally spoke.
“Mom was going to lose the house.”
Abigail looked at him.
“So you planned to use my assets to save her.”
“I was trying to fix everything.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
She took a slow breath.
“Then here's my answer.”
Logan looked hopeful.
“What?”
“You're not getting the money.”
Bernice's face hardened.
“You'll regret this.”
Abigail looked directly at her.
“I already regret trusting your son.”
Then Bernice smiled.
It wasn't a sad smile.
It was a confident one.
“You haven't seen the worst yet.”
That night, Abigail discovered why.
May you like
Someone had accessed her private email account.
And the only person who had ever had her password was Logan.
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