Chapter 4 - What Barbara Knew
Rebecca told me not to respond.
So naturally, every part of me wanted to.
Instead, I handed my phone to Tessa.
"Keep this away from me."
"Gladly."
Barbara's message was intimidation disguised as information.
Rebecca saw it immediately.
"She wants you emotionally reactive," she said the next morning. "Don't give her that advantage."
"What if she actually knows something?"
"She probably does."
"Then shouldn't we ask?"
"No. We obtain facts through documents and counsel."
I hated how sensible that was.
I also needed it.
By Tuesday afternoon, the bank formally froze the home-equity transaction.
Bradley received notice at the same time I did.
At 2:03 p.m., he violated Rebecca's communication instruction again.
BRADLEY: You destroyed a business deal worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.
I forwarded it.
At 2:05:
BRADLEY: That loan would have been repaid in 90 days.
Forwarded.
At 2:08:
BRADLEY: You never trusted me.
That one almost made me laugh.
At three, Rebecca called.
"Good news. His texts are useful."
"I figured."
"He has effectively acknowledged knowledge of the loan."
"What happens now?"
"The lender's fraud team investigates. Separately, we proceed with divorce discovery."
I stared through Tessa's apartment window.
"Rebecca, can I ask something?"
"Of course."
"If he apologizes..."
She waited.
I didn't finish.
"You're asking whether you should reconsider."
"I don't know what I'm asking."
"Then don't decide today."
That surprised me.
I expected a divorce lawyer to say run.
Instead, she said, "You don't need to know how you'll feel in six months. You only need to make safe, informed decisions now."
I wrote that down.
Safe.
Informed.
Now.
Three things Bradley's marriage had rarely allowed me to be at once.
On Wednesday, Megan showed up at Tessa's apartment.
She looked exhausted.
Barbara had taken her phone after catching her photographing the email.
Megan had left the next morning.
"She's furious at me," she said.
"For telling the truth?"
"For choosing you over family."
I poured her coffee.
"You're not choosing me."
Megan looked at me.
"You're choosing what happened."
She blinked hard.
"That's what I told her."
We sat at the table.
Megan had more information.
BBR Ventures wasn't a normal operating company.
It existed to invest in a private real-estate development pitched by one of Uncle Robert's business contacts.
Minimum investment: $100,000.
Bradley had already committed.
Without having the money.
"He told them funding was secured," Megan said.
"How?"
"The loan."
"And Barbara?"
"She put in fifteen thousand."
"Robert?"
"Twenty."
I did the math.
They were still short.
"Bradley needed eighty-five."
Megan nodded.
"Mom said once the investment doubled, he'd repay the loan and you'd never know."
I stared at her.
"He risked our house on something I didn't consent to because he thought he'd get away with it."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Megan's expression changed.
"What?"
"You really don't know?"
"Know what?"
She looked uncomfortable.
"Bradley hates that you make more money than he does."
I had heard versions of that before.
Mostly as jokes.
He called me CEO at parties.
Boss lady.
Sugar mama.
I had laughed because I thought he was secure enough to joke.
Maybe he had been telling me the truth in disguise.
Megan continued, "Mom makes it worse."
"How?"
"She tells him a husband should be the provider."
I leaned back.
So there it was.
An entire fraud built partly on a wounded ego.
"That's insane."
"I know."
"No, Megan. I mean genuinely insane. He could have asked me about investing."
"Would you have said yes?"
"Not without due diligence."
"Exactly."
I understood.
Bradley didn't want partnership.
He wanted permission to be right.
And if I might disagree, he'd remove me from the decision.
That evening, something unexpected happened.
Eric called Tessa.
Not me.
Her number had been listed as my emergency contact on the rental paperwork.
She put him on speaker after asking my permission.
"Claire?"
"I'm here."
He sounded terrible.
"I'm sorry."
I said nothing.
"I shouldn't have grabbed you."
"No."
"I thought Bradley told you."
"He didn't."
"I know that now."
"You heard me tell you to let go."
Silence.
"Yes."
That answer mattered.
"Then you knew."
"I was drunk."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
He exhaled.
"You're right."
I wasn't interested in punishing Eric forever.
But I wasn't ready to relieve his guilt either.
"Why are you calling?"
"Because Dylan is freaking out."
"About the video?"
"About more than that."
I glanced at Megan.
"What more?"
"Bradley told us the pool thing was supposed to make you look ridiculous."
My skin prickled.
"Why?"
"He said you were threatening to leave him."
"I wasn't."
"I know."
"Did he say that before Friday?"
"Yeah."
"How long before?"
"A few weeks."
That didn't make sense.
Before Friday, I'd been unhappy but not planning divorce.
"Why would he say that?"
Eric was silent too long.
"Eric."
"He said if you ever tried to leave, he needed the family to understand what you were really like."
My mouth went dry.
"What I'm really like?"
"Controlling. Dramatic. Obsessed with money."
The same words.
The same narrative.
Built in advance.
Bradley wasn't merely humiliating me.
He had been preparing witnesses.
Tessa muted the call.
"Claire, this is important."
I nodded and unmuted.
"Eric, did anyone record after I came out of the pool?"
"Everybody had phones."
"Do you have video?"
"I deleted mine."
"Why?"
"Because after security showed up, I realized how bad it looked."
Of course.
"Does Dylan?"
"I don't know."
"Bradley?"
Eric hesitated.
"Probably."
We ended the call.
Rebecca was very interested.
She instructed us to preserve the recording of Eric's call if legally permitted; since Tessa had told him he was on speaker but not recording, we had only notes, so Rebecca documented the conversation instead.
Two days later, formal financial discovery began.
Bank records.
Credit cards.
Business accounts.
Tax filings.
And that was when the diamond bracelet returned.
The $6,200 purchase had been charged to a credit card Bradley hadn't disclosed.
Rebecca found the account through his credit report.
Balance:
$24,780.
I hadn't known it existed.
There were hotel charges.
Restaurants.
A spa.
Jewelry.
My heart dropped.
Tessa stared at the statements.
"Claire..."
"Don't."
"Okay."
"I can't do adultery today."
She reached for my hand.
"Then we don't do adultery today."
But adultery had other plans.
That afternoon, my email notification chimed.
Unknown sender.
Subject:
You don't know me, but I know Bradley.
I stared at it for almost a minute.
Then opened it.
My name is Lauren Hayes.
I'm sorry to contact you like this.
Bradley told me he was separated.
He said you were living together temporarily while selling the house.
I believed him.
I don't anymore.
Attached were photographs.
Bradley at a restaurant.
Bradley at a hotel.
Bradley fastening a diamond bracelet around a brunette woman's wrist.
The receipt wasn't for Barbara.
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, there was one more attachment.
A screenshot of a text Bradley had sent Lauren three days before the pool incident.
BRADLEY: After this weekend, everything changes.
LAUREN: Is she finally leaving?
BRADLEY: She won't have much choice.
I felt the room tilt.
Tessa read it twice.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
Then Lauren sent another email.
This one contained only a photograph.
A photograph of a document.
At the top were the words:
POSTNUPTIAL AGREEMENT.
May you like
My name was printed on the first page.
And at the bottom was another signature that looked exactly like mine.
