Chapter 5 - The Man in My Office
It was Daniel Price.
Mark's closest friend.
His best man at our wedding.
The man who had laughed the loudest beside the pool.
I called the police.
Daniel was arrested before he left the building.
Inside his backpack were copied keys, a portable hard drive, and instructions describing exactly which files to remove.
The instructions had been sent from a prepaid phone.
Police couldn't immediately prove who owned it.
They didn't need to tell me who I suspected.
Mark denied everything.
Daniel initially did too.
Then prosecutors explained the potential charges.
His loyalty lasted forty-eight hours.
Mark had offered him ten thousand dollars.
Five upfront.
Five after the files disappeared.
Daniel turned over messages.
The custody case changed overnight.
Mark's attorney withdrew.
His replacement advised him to stop contacting me except through counsel.
For the first time since the party, Mark became quiet.
And in that quiet, I began rebuilding.
Not revenge.
My life.
I reduced my hours.
Promoted my operations manager.
Started attending Noah's soccer practices without checking email.
Took Lily to preschool myself.
Went to therapy.
I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until I stopped living in emergency mode.
One afternoon, Claire visited.
She brought coffee.
We sat beside the same pool where everything began.
“I still think about that day,” she said.
“So do I.”
“I should have said something sooner.”
“You did say something.”
“Not loudly enough.”
I looked at her.
“Claire, Mark's behavior isn't your debt.”
She smiled sadly.
“Ethan says you've changed.”
“I have.”
“In a good way.”
I considered that.
“I think I stopped apologizing for taking up space.”
She raised her coffee.
“To taking up space.”
I laughed.
“To taking up space.”
The custody hearing came six months after Mark's birthday.
The judge did not remove him from the children's lives.
I hadn't asked for that.
Despite everything, I believed children deserved a relationship with their father if it could be safe and healthy.
But Mark did not receive primary custody.
We received a structured arrangement.
I had primary residential custody.
Mark had scheduled parenting time.
Financial decisions concerning the children required transparency.
The court also considered his financial misconduct and attempts to remove evidence.
When the judge finished, Mark looked smaller than I remembered.
Not because I had defeated him.
Because the performance was over.
Outside the courthouse, he approached me.
Rachel moved closer.
I raised a hand.
It was okay.
Mark stopped several feet away.
“You won.”
“No.”
He looked confused.
“This wasn't a game.”
“You got the house.”
“I bought most of it twice.”
He flinched.
I regretted the cruelty immediately.
Not because it wasn't true.
Because I didn't want to become someone who needed to hurt him.
He looked toward the courthouse doors.
“I ruined everything.”
“Yes.”
His eyes filled.
“I don't know when I became this person.”
For the first time in months, I saw the man I married.
Not enough to want him back.
Enough to mourn him.
“I don't know either.”
“Do you hate me?”
I thought about it.
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“I did for a while.”
“And now?”
“Now I want you to become someone our children can trust.”
He looked down.
“I don't know how.”
“Then figure it out.”
I walked away.
That should have been the ending.
It wasn't.
Because divorce uncovers things marriage sometimes hides.
During final asset discovery, Rachel found a life-insurance policy.
Not unusual.
The beneficiary was.
Three months before the party, Mark had changed the primary beneficiary on a policy worth $750,000.
The children had been removed.
So had I.
The new beneficiary was his consulting company.
A company that, at the time, was partially controlled by Natalie.
Rachel stared at the paperwork.
“Did your sister know about this?”
“I don't know.”
We called her.
Natalie went silent.
Then she said:
“Rebecca, there's something I never told you.”
My heart sank.
“What?”
“The night before Mark's birthday party, he came to my apartment.”
“Why?”
“He wanted me to sign something.”
“What?”
She started crying.
“I refused.”
“Natalie, what was it?”
“A document transferring ownership of the company entirely to me if something happened to him.”
I frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I know.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He said it would protect the money.”
“What money?”
Silence.
May you like
Then Natalie whispered:
“The money he said nobody would ever find.”
