Chapter 2 - The Family Discount
Ethan followed me onto Madison Avenue.
“Nora, stop.”
I kept walking until we were clear of the store entrance. I would not give Victoria the satisfaction of calling this a public scene when all I had done was stop financing one.
“How long?” I asked.
He dragged a hand through his hair.
“It’s complicated.”
“That usually means the answer is embarrassing.”
He looked toward the store.
Celeste stood near the window with Victoria, holding her own handbag now. The crystal heels had disappeared.
“Four months,” he said.
I stared at him.
Four months included my birthday.
The weekend I flew to Portland because my father had surgery.
The anniversary dinner Ethan canceled because his mother supposedly needed him.
“Does your mother know everything?”
“She only recently—”
“Ethan.”
He looked away.
I nodded.
There it was.
Victoria had not merely tolerated the affair. She had gone shopping with it.
“I want you to communicate through my attorney,” I said.
“About what?”
“The divorce.”
“You can’t seriously decide that in twelve minutes.”
“I didn’t decide it in twelve minutes. You spent four months deciding it for me.”
His face changed.
The charm gave way to irritation.
“You always do this.”
“What?”
“Turn everything into a transaction.”
I almost laughed.
Behind him, a delivery cyclist maneuvered through traffic with a stack of paper bags. People went about their Thursday while my marriage stood on the sidewalk, finally saying what it thought of me.
“You used my credit card to buy gifts for another woman.”
“It’s a pair of shoes.”
“Then paying for them yourself shouldn’t have been difficult.”
My car arrived.
Before I got in, Ethan said, “You’re going to regret humiliating my mother.”
I looked at him.
“You should be more concerned about what she’s taught you to accept.”
At my attorney’s office, Julia Park listened without interrupting.
Then she asked practical questions.
Was I safe?
Did Ethan have access to my email?
Which assets predated the marriage?
What did the prenuptial agreement cover?
Answering steadied me.
We had signed the agreement at Victoria’s insistence.
She had announced that the Sinclair family required protection from people who might mistake marriage for a financial opportunity.
My attorney had negotiated reciprocal protections.
Victoria had barely read them.
Apparently, she had assumed only her family had something worth keeping.
Julia pulled up the signed document.
“Preserving this was a good decision.”
“Your decision,” I said.
“You listened.”
For the next hour, I made lists.
The penthouse had been purchased before the wedding and remained in my name, subject to whatever claims counsel needed to assess. The cars were mine. My premarital investments had separate records. Our shared expenses were documented.
I would not assume anything was untouchable merely because I felt wronged.
I would give Julia the paperwork and let her do her job.
Then we reached Ethan’s consulting business.
“What do you know about it?” she asked.
“Very little.”
“Have you ever guaranteed an obligation for him?”
“No.”
“Have you signed documents connected to his company?”
I hesitated.
“A lease acknowledgment. Maybe an insurance form.”
“Send me everything.”
My phone lit up.
Victoria.
I let it ring.
A text followed.
A marriage requires discretion. Canceling cards in a boutique is beneath you.
I forwarded it to Julia.
Then another message arrived.
This time from Celeste.
I didn’t know he was still living with you. There are other things you should know.
I stared at the screen.
Julia waited while I read the next message.
He told my father you had already approved the acquisition.
I had done no such thing.
In fact, that morning I had recommended delaying the deal because the seller’s financial records did not reconcile.
I looked up.
May you like
“What?” Julia asked.
“My husband may have been selling access to me.”
