Chapter 7 - THE CONFRONTATION OF THE HEART
Monday morning,
I didn't go to the title company.
I went to a lawyer’s office.
Not a divorce lawyer.
A criminal defense attorney who specialized in white-collar crime.
I handed him the spreadsheet,
the photographs,
and the security logs.
“I want to file a whistleblower report with the IRS,”
I said.
“And I want to file for a legal separation with an immediate freeze on all marital assets.”
The lawyer,
a man named David,
looked at the documents with a grim whistle.
“You’ve been busy, Susan.”
“This is enough to take down a small empire.”
“What about the Belize flight?”
he asked.
“I want him to get to the airport,”
I said.
“I want him to think he’s free.”
“And then I want the floor to fall out.”
I spent the rest of the week playing the part of the devoted wife.
I helped Thomas pack his "business trip" bag.
I saw him hide the Belize itinerary in the lining of his suitcase.
I saw the way his hands shook as the departure date drew closer.
He was terrified,
but he was also exhilarated.
He thought he was the smartest person in the room.
On Wednesday night,
I found him in the kitchen,
staring at the red maple tree.
“It’s a good tree,”
he said,
his voice low.
“It is,”
I replied,
standing beside him.
“It’s survived a lot of storms.”
He looked at me,
and for a fleeting second,
I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes.
Maybe he remembered the day we planted it.
Maybe he remembered the twenty-two years we had shared.
But then the flicker died,
replaced by the cold light of greed.
“I’m going to miss this place,”
he whispered.
“You don't have to leave, Thomas,”
I said,
giving him one last chance to tell the truth.
He turned away,
grabbing his briefcase.
“Work is work, Sue. You know how it is.”
I watched him walk away,
realizing that the man I had married was already gone.
May you like
The person in front of me was just a shell,
filled with stolen money and hollow promises.
