“She forged it because if investigators found it, you’d look like the one stealing from your own gym.”
Claire rushed forward.
“That isn’t true!”
“It fits,” Rebecca said.
“You don’t know anything!”
“I know forensic accounting.”
Martin quietly stepped backward.
I almost admired him.
Lawyers develop survival instincts too.
Derek sat heavily on the edge of the mat.
He looked young suddenly.
Twenty-eight.
Not a predator.
Just a fool.
I should have hated him.
Part of me did.
He had slept with my wife.
Mocked me.
Hit me for entertainment.
But hate requires energy, and Claire had consumed most of mine.
I looked at her.
“Was any of it real?”
She stared back.
“Our marriage?”
“Yes.”
Her face crumpled.
“At first.”
That answer was worse than no.
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For finally telling the truth.”
I picked up my shoes.
She stepped toward me.
“Cole, where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You can’t.”
Martin answered before I could.
“Actually, he can.”
Claire looked at him.
“What about me?”
“The trust terminates your occupancy rights upon initiation of divorce proceedings combined with documented marital abandonment.”
“What does that mean?”
Martin closed the folder.
“It means when you filed your petition Wednesday and listed Mr.
Mercer as having vacated the marital residence, you triggered the clause yourself.”
Claire stared at him.
Then at me.
“No.”
Rebecca smiled without humor.
“The papers you filed to trap him are what removed you.”
“No.”
Martin continued.
“You have thirty days to vacate.”
“No!”
Claire lunged toward the folder.
Derek stood and moved aside.
Nobody stopped her.
She looked at me.
“This is my home!”
I thought of every wall I had painted.
Every Christmas light I had hung.
Every floorboard Claire and I had chosen together.
The dent in the hallway from when we tried to carry a sofa upstairs.
The mark on the kitchen doorway where we once measured the height of a child we never got to raise.
For years I had thought houses held memories.
Now I understood.
People do.
A house only holds what we refuse to carry away.
“You wanted freedom,” I said.
Claire sobbed.
“This isn’t freedom!”
“No.”
I picked up my jacket.
“This is the bill.”
I walked toward the door.
Derek called after me.
“Cole.”
I stopped.
He looked ashamed.
“I owe you.”
“No.”
“The bet.”
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
