Chapter 10 - The Policy.
I stared at my own name printed across the insurance policy.
For several seconds, the room seemed unnaturally quiet.
I was thirty-two years old.
Healthy.
Active.
And apparently worth one million dollars to my husband if I died.
“When was this opened?”
Megan asked.
The agent checked.
“Nine months ago.”
I looked at Andrew.
His eyes widened.
“That is not what you think.”
I almost laughed.
“You keep saying that.”
“It was financial planning.”
“Then why didn’t I know about it?”
“You signed the application.”
“No.”
The agent examined the signature.
My stomach tightened.
Another forgery.
Andrew stood.
“I wanted protection.”
“For whom?”
“For us.”
“There is no us.”
The words came easily now.
He stared at me.
That was the moment he finally seemed to understand that apologies would not restore anything.
The agents asked several more questions.
They did not arrest Andrew immediately.
Instead, they instructed him not to destroy evidence or contact certain employees associated with the investigation.
His attorney would receive further notice.
When the agents left, Vanessa went with them.
Before leaving, she stopped beside me.
“Change every password.”
“I will.”
“And check your medical records.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Some insurance companies require exams.”
A chill moved through me.
After they left, I contacted my primary care physician.
There had been no recent physical requested by me.
Then the receptionist found something.
A request for records had been submitted eight months earlier.
The authorization contained my signature.
I had never signed it.
Andrew had collected my medical history without my consent.
Megan documented everything.
By four o’clock, she had prepared emergency filings to protect my finances and prevent any attempted transfer of real property.
She also contacted a divorce attorney in her firm.
His name was Thomas Reed.
He agreed to meet me the following morning.
Andrew sat alone in the living room.
Lorraine remained upstairs packing.
I walked into the room.
Andrew looked exhausted.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“I never wanted you dead.”
“That’s an incredibly low standard for a husband.”
He covered his face.
“The policy was for the loan.”
“What loan?”
“The lender wanted additional security.”
“That still required my permission.”
“I thought I could fix everything before you knew.”
I studied him.
That sentence seemed to contain the entire marriage.
Andrew always believed consequences were temporary obstacles.
If he could delay them long enough, someone else would eventually absorb them.
Usually me.
“You almost got me charged as a participant in fraud.”
“I never would have let that happen.”
“You were forging my name.”
“I would have explained.”
“When?”
He had no answer.
The clock on the wall clicked toward five.
My thirty-second birthday.
No cake.
No dinner reservation.
No husband waiting with flowers.
Instead, financial crimes investigators had carried evidence from my home.
Oddly, I felt lighter.
I looked toward the front window.
A vehicle had pulled into the driveway.
It belonged to Natalie.
Rebecca stood quickly.
Natalie stepped out.
Her eyes were red.
She carried a small velvet box.
Andrew saw it.
His face collapsed.
Natalie entered without speaking.
She walked directly toward him.
Then she opened the box.
Inside was a diamond ring.
“You bought this yesterday.”
Andrew stood.
“Natalie.”
She threw it onto the floor.
“You bought my engagement ring with stolen money.”
He tried to speak.
She slapped him.
The sound echoed through the living room.
Then Natalie looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed her.
Andrew reached toward her.
She stepped away.
But before leaving, she gave me a hotel receipt she had found inside his bag.
The receipt was eight months old.
The guest name was Andrew Parker.
The second guest listed was not Natalie.
It was Vanessa Cole.
May you like
Natalie whispered, “I don’t think I was his first affair.”
And suddenly Vanessa’s role in Andrew’s life became much more complicated.
