Chapter 9 - The Victim CardAt 2:15 PM, my phone rang. It was Garrett.
I answered, placing the phone on speaker while I sat in a coffee shop working on my laptop.
"Are you happy now?!" Garrett’s voice exploded through the speaker, hysterical and cracked with rage. "A process server just handed me divorce papers at the front door! In front of the neighbors!"
"You knew this was coming, Garrett," I said quietly.
"I didn't know you were going to burn down our entire life!" he screamed. "I made a mistake, okay?! I was trying to help my family! My sister was going bankrupt, my mom was crying on the phone every night, and I felt pressure! Is that a crime?! Is that worth divorcing me over?!"
"Stealing forty-seven thousand dollars from me was a crime, yes," I said smoothly. "And conspiring to leverage my home equity without my knowledge is attempted fraud."
"I was going to tell you!" Garrett stammered, shifting gears instantly. "I was going to ask you last night! We were going to talk about it as a family!"
"You brought a notary to my birthday dinner, Garrett," I reminded him. "You didn't want to talk. You wanted to pressure me in front of seven people so I couldn't say no."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Garrett spoke again, his tone was dark, defensive, and bitter.
"My mother was right about you," he hissed. "You don't care about anyone but yourself. You're cold, calculating, and obsessed with control. You used your tech job to lord money over me for four years, and now you're throwing me out like garbage."
"You have thirty days to remove your personal belongings from the condo, Garrett," I replied, ignoring his insult completely. "My attorney will coordinate the times with your lawyer. Do not contact my personal phone again."
May you like
"I’m not leaving!" Garrett yelled. "I have a right to stay here! I’m your husband!"
"Not for much longer," I said, and hung up.
