Chapter 3 - The Document Courtney SignedThe next morning, my attorney arrived.
His name was Daniel Hayes.
He had represented my company for five years.
He placed a thick folder on the table.
“You need to see this.”
I opened it.
My stomach tightened.
It was a property agreement.
Our house.
My savings.
My business shares.
And Courtney's signature.
“What is this?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Your wife signed a marital property transfer.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
I stared at the date.
Six months.
The same month Lance had borrowed $80,000 from me.
“What did she transfer?”
“Your family residence.”
My heart stopped.
“That's impossible.”
“It isn't.”
“She couldn't transfer my property.”
“She didn't transfer ownership.”
Daniel pointed to another clause.
“She transferred her claim to marital equity.”
I looked closer.
“What does that mean?”
“If you separate, she receives nothing from the house.”
I looked up.
“Why would she sign this?”
Daniel's expression was serious.
“Because she received something.”
“What?”
He handed me another page.
A payment.
$50,000.
From Lance.
I stared at it.
“Courtney took money from my brother?”
“Technically, from his company.”
“Lance doesn't have a company.”
“Exactly.”
I felt sick.
Someone had created a shell company.
And Courtney had been paid.
“For what?”
Daniel didn't answer.
I turned the page.
There was a note.
Silence regarding financial irregularities.
I leaned back.
My wife hadn't simply failed to defend me.
She had profited from my silence.
That afternoon, I confronted her.
She came to our hotel room alone.
I placed the document on the table.
“What is this?”
She stared at it.
Then closed her eyes.
“I can explain.”
“Please do.”
“I was scared.”
“You accepted $50,000.”
“Yes.”
“From Lance.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He told me you were going to leave me.”
I stared at her.
“So you sold me?”
“No.”
“You signed away your rights.”
“I thought you were going to divorce me.”
“I didn't.”
“I didn't know that.”
“You knew enough.”
She began crying.
“I thought if I helped Lance, everything would calm down.”
“Everything?”
“The family.”
I shook my head.
“You don't understand.”
“What?”
“This was never about money.”
I looked at her.
“It was about whether you would stand beside me when your family treated our children like outsiders.”
She said nothing.
“I could have forgiven debt.”
“I could have forgiven lies.”
“But I cannot forgive you watching our daughter cry and doing nothing.”
She collapsed into a chair.
“I know.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
My voice softened.
May you like
“You don't.”
Then I walked away.
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