My husband brought his “work wife” on our anniversary trip to Hawaii.

Starting Fresh in a Small Space

That afternoon, I met with a realtor to start apartment hunting.

I gave her my budget based on my own income plus the temporary support, and she pulled up listings that were way smaller and less nice than the house Jerry and I shared.

We drove around looking at one-bedroom apartments in safe neighborhoods, and I kept adjusting my expectations downward with each place.

The third apartment had stained carpet and a tiny kitchen, but the building was secure and the rent fit my budget.

I focused on finding something safe and affordable rather than trying to match what I was leaving behind.

The realtor seemed to understand without me having to explain why I was doing this alone.

Three weeks after the conference room confrontation, Ronan called again to tell me that Jerry had been placed on paid administrative leave while they completed their investigation.

I asked what that meant, and he explained that Jerry would stay home with full pay until HR and compliance finished reviewing all the evidence and interviewing relevant people.

It felt like partial validation—proof that the company was taking this seriously—but I knew paid leave wasn’t the same as being fired.

Ronan couldn’t promise what the final outcome would be; he said the investigation could take another few weeks.

I thanked him and hung up, feeling like this was progress but not victory.

A formal letter arrived from Sebastian the next Monday, printed on expensive letterhead and carefully worded by lawyers.

The letter expressed regret for any distress caused to me during this difficult time, acknowledged that mistakes were made in judgment, and hoped we could move forward professionally.

I read it twice, looking for any actual admission of wrongdoing but found none.

It was pure legal language designed to sound apologetic without admitting anything that could be used in court.

I forwarded it to Josephine without responding directly, following her advice that any personal communication with Jerry or his attorney could be twisted and used against me later.

She replied within an hour saying this was exactly what she expected and to ignore it.

Friday morning, I got an alert from my bank app showing several large transfers from our joint savings account.

I opened the app and saw that Jerry had moved $12,000 out the day before the temporary orders took effect.

I called Josephine immediately, and she told me to screenshot everything and send it to her right away.

She said she would file an emergency motion to freeze the remaining funds and force Jerry to account for where the money went.

I sat on my friend’s couch staring at the transactions, feeling the betrayal cut even deeper knowing he’d been planning his exit strategy while pretending to be reasonable.

He’d taken that money knowing the court was about to restrict access, which meant he’d been thinking several steps ahead while I was just trying to survive.

That weekend, I heard through mutual friends that people at Jerry’s office were spreading rumors about me.

They said I was a vindictive ex trying to destroy him over a midlife crisis, that I couldn’t handle him having female friends at work, and that I made everything public because I wanted attention.

The rumors hurt more than I expected, knowing people were talking about me without knowing what really happened.

But I refused to defend myself on social media or through the gossip chain.

I trusted that the evidence would speak louder than workplace speculation—that HR had the receipts and photos and would make their own judgment.

Josephine told me not to engage with any of it; that responding would only make me look defensive.

Tuesday afternoon, I went back to Janelle’s office for my second therapy session.

She asked how I was handling everything, and I told her about the counter-complaint, the court hearing, the rumors, and the money Jerry took.

She listened and then helped me work through the grief and anger without letting them take over completely.

She taught me to notice my triggers, like when I started spiraling into worst-case scenarios or replaying the Hawaii trip over and over.

She showed me how to respond to those triggers instead of just reacting—how to pause and choose what to do next rather than getting swept away by emotion.

I left her office feeling raw but also more in control of myself than I’d felt since everything started.

Wednesday morning, I went back to the realtor and told her I wanted to put in an application for the apartment with the stained carpet.

I walked me through the paperwork, and I paid the deposit with money from my separate checking account—the one Jerry never had access to.

Signing that lease felt bittersweet, like I was claiming my independence but also admitting that the life I thought I was building with Jerry was completely over.

The apartment represented starting fresh, but it also meant accepting that I was doing this alone.

I took the keys and scheduled the move-in date for two weeks out, giving myself time to coordinate everything else that still needed handling.

Thursday morning, I got the email from Ronan with an attachment labeled “Preliminary compliance review.”

My hands shook as I opened the PDF and scanned through the formal language until I found the numbers: $8,342 in personal charges on Jerry’s company card over six months.

The report listed every dinner, every spa booking, every upgrade, and gift charged as client entertainment when there was no client involved.

Ronan called me an hour later and walked me through what happens next.

The company would require full reimbursement within 90 days, and Jerry would face disciplinary action, but Ronan couldn’t promise termination because this was technically a first offense.

I felt the disappointment settle in my chest, but I thanked him anyway, knowing this was more than nothing even if it wasn’t everything.

That afternoon, Josephine forwarded me an email from Sebastian proposing mediation instead of going to trial.

He wrote that a court battle would drain both our bank accounts and drag this out for over a year, suggesting we try to reach a settlement through a neutral mediator.