My Mother Demanded I Divorce My Husband And Give Him Our House Because He Got My Sister Pregnant. Little Do They Know, I’m A Cfo And Have Already Secured The Assets. How Do I Tell Them They’re Now Trespassing On My Property?
The Trap
The cafe I chose for the meeting was neutral territory: a sterile corporate chain with fluorescent lighting and jazz music that was just a little too loud, located halfway between my parents’ house and my office. I arrived 15 minutes early, not because I was eager, but because I needed to get into character.
I checked my reflection in the dark window. I had worn my oldest cardigan, the one with the pilling on the sleeve, and skipped my usual under-eye concealer. I let my shoulders slump. I needed to look like a defeated wife, a woman who had lost everything and was desperate to salvage a shred of dignity.
Diana sat next to me, crisp and professional, but she had softened her usual shark-like gaze.
“Remember,”
she whispered, sliding the thick document across the table.
“You’re not a CFO today. You’re a heartbroken sister. Let them think they’re doing you a favor by signing this.”
I nodded, my stomach in knots. It wasn’t fear anymore; it was anticipation. It was the feeling of a roller coaster clacking its way to the top of the big drop.
Greg and my father arrived together. Greg looked tired but smug, wearing the blazer I’d bought him three Christmases ago. My father walked with that stiff, righteous posture he adopted when he felt he was the moral authority in the room. They sat down without shaking hands. Greg wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Veronica,”
my father began, his voice rumbling slightly.
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. We don’t want a war. We just want what’s best for the baby.”
“I know, Dad,”
I said, letting my voice crack just a little. I stared down at my hands, twisting the wedding ring I was still wearing for effect.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what Mom said about being the bigger sister.”
Greg looked up, his interest piqued.
“So you agree to the terms?”
Diana slid in smoothly.
“Veronica agrees that a protracted legal battle would be detrimental to everyone’s health. She is willing to grant an immediate divorce. She is also willing to waive her right to sue you, Greg, for certain accounting irregularities we’ve discovered.”
Greg flinched.
“Irregularities? I told you those were consulting expenses.”
“Whatever the case,”
Diana continued with a wave of her hand,
“Veronica is willing to let it go in the spirit of moving forward.”
I looked at Greg, mustering all the sadness I could.
“I don’t want to fight you, Greg. I loved you. If Barbara is who you want, if she can give you the family I couldn’t…”
I paused, dabbing at a fake tear.
“Then I won’t stand in your way.”
My father let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing.
“Good girl, Veronica. I knew you had a good heart.”
“However,”
Diana said, pushing the document toward them.
“To make this legally binding and fast, so you can marry Barbara before the baby is born, we need to sign a settlement agreement today. It grants the divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. It states that each party keeps the assets held in their sole name and waives all claims to the other’s future earnings.”
Greg frowned, eyeing the thick stack of paper.
“What about the house?”
“The email said I get the house.”
“The agreement states that you will retain residency at the Maple Street address,”
Diana said carefully, using very specific wording.
“And Veronica will vacate the premises. It also includes a clause where Veronica agrees not to seek repayment of the $50,000 in marital funds you spent on outside entanglements.”
Greg’s eyes widened at the number. He glanced at my father. He knew if that number came out in court he’d look like a thief.
“What about alimony?”
Greg asked, greedy to the last.
“I can’t pay alimony, Greg,”
I whispered.
“But I’m giving up the house. I’m giving you a home for your baby. Isn’t that enough?”
My father nudged Greg.
“Take the deal, son. A house in this suburb is worth a fortune. She’s giving you the equity. Don’t push it.”
Greg looked at the document. He flipped quickly through the pages. I held my breath. If he read Section 12 pertaining to the property rights of third-party entities or LLCs, the game was over. But he was skimming. He was looking for dollar signs and the word “house.” He stopped at the signature page. He picked up the pen.
“This means it’s over?”
he asked, looking at me.
“No takebacks? You won’t come after my business ideas?”
“I won’t touch your business ideas, Greg,”
I said. It was an easy promise to make since he didn’t have any.
“And you’ll leave us alone?”
“I just want to disappear,”
I said quietly.
He smirked. The victory was in his eyes. He thought he had broken me. He thought he had won the house, the girl, and his freedom, all while sticking me with the bill.
Right now, as I watch his hand hover over the paper, I know there is no turning back. I’m about to blow up my entire life just to build a new one. My heart is pounding against my ribs, not with grief but with the adrenaline of the kill.
Now let’s see what happens when the ink hits the paper.
Greg signed. The sound of the pen scratching on the paper was loud in the quiet cafe. Scratch, scratch. The sound of a man signing his own death warrant. My father signed as a witness, beaming as if he were signing a peace treaty that ended a war he started.
“There,”
Dad said, capping the pen and pushing the documents back to Diana.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now we can all move on.”
“Yes,”
I said, standing up. My legs felt shaky but I forced them to hold.
“I’ll be by to pack the rest of my things this weekend. You can have the keys on Monday.”
“Monday works,”
Greg said, already pulling out his phone, probably to text Barbara the good news.
“Make sure you leave the washer and dryer. Barb’s going to have a lot of baby clothes to do.”
I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.
“Of course. The washer and dryer stay.”
I walked out of the cafe with Diana, maintaining my defeated slouch until we were around the corner and out of sight. The moment we were clear, I straightened my spine and took a deep, clean breath of the damp city air.
“Did we get it?”
I asked Diana, my voice firm.
Diana held up the folder. A wicked smile spread across her face.
“We got it. He waived further discovery. He waived alimony. And most importantly, he signed an acknowledgement that all assets held by third-party legal entities are excluded from the marital estate.”
“He thinks the house is a marital asset,”
I said, a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in my throat.
“He thought,”
Diana corrected.
“Legally, he just agreed that Miller Holdings LLC is a third-party entity and he has no claim to it. He just evicted himself.”
