Chapter 1: The Woman Wearing My Robe
"Sign the papers, Sarah. Vanessa is moving in tonight.""
My husband dropped a thick divorce agreement onto the kitchen table.
I was sitting in the chair nearest the window, holding our one-month-old son against my chest. The incision from my emergency C-section still hurt whenever I moved too quickly. A bottle of pain medication sat beside my cold coffee.
But Daniel didn't seem to notice any of that.
He was too busy adjusting the cuff of his expensive shirt.
And standing beside him was a woman wearing my favorite silk robe.
Vanessa Reed.
His twenty-six-year-old executive assistant.
The same woman I'd once invited into our home for Christmas dinner.
"You're bringing your mistress into our home?"" I asked quietly.
Daniel sighed as though I were inconveniencing him.
"Don't start, Sarah. I've already made my decision.""
Vanessa glanced around the kitchen, examining the marble countertops and the enormous windows overlooking the backyard.
"Daniel said the house would look much better with a few changes," she said.
"I think the furniture is a little outdated.""
I looked at the robe.
It was pale champagne silk, with delicate embroidery around the sleeves. Daniel had bought it for me on our third anniversary.
"That's mine," I said.
Vanessa glanced down.
"Oh, this?"" She laughed.
"Daniel told me I could use anything in the closet.""
I turned toward my husband.
"You went through my things?""
"Vanessa needed something comfortable.""
"She's standing in my kitchen wearing my clothes while you're asking me for a divorce.""
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
"Can we please act like adults?""
I almost laughed.
I'd spent the previous month recovering from surgery, waking every two hours to feed our son, and learning how to care for a newborn while my body struggled to heal.
Daniel had spent that month coming home later and later.
Now I understood why.
"How long?"" I asked.
He didn't answer.
"How long have you been seeing her?""
"That's irrelevant.""
"Three months?"" I pressed.
"Six?""
Vanessa smiled.
"Almost a year.""
The room went silent.
Almost a year.
I'd been pregnant for most of that time.
I looked down at Noah. His tiny fingers curled around the fabric of my shirt.
Daniel pushed the divorce agreement closer.
"Just sign it. I've been more than generous.""
I glanced at the paperwork.
He wanted joint custody, but the proposed schedule gave him nearly every weekend. He wanted me to waive any claim to his business interests. He also wanted me to leave the house by Friday.
"Where do you expect me to go?"" I asked.
"Your mother's apartment.""
"My mother lives in a one-bedroom apartment.""
"Then figure something out.""
Vanessa leaned against the counter.
"We're planning to turn the nursery into my dressing room. Daniel says the baby can stay with you.""
My fingers tightened around Noah's blanket.
"You want to turn my son's nursery into a dressing room?""
"Well, obviously," Vanessa replied.
"Daniel and I need our own space.""
Daniel gave her an approving smile.
"That's enough, Vanessa.""
But he didn't actually tell her to stop.
I looked at the man I'd married seven years earlier.
The man who had cried when our son was born.
The man who had held my hand in the hospital and promised that nothing would ever come before his family.
Now he was standing in front of me, impatiently waiting for me to surrender my home.
"Fine," I said.
I reached for the pen.
Daniel blinked.
"Fine?""
"I'll sign.""
I carefully placed Noah in his portable bassinet, then picked up the agreement.
Vanessa exchanged a delighted look with Daniel.
"Wow," she whispered.
"That was easier than I expected.""
I signed the first page.
Then the second.
Then the last.
Daniel watched me with a satisfied smile.
"See? This is why I knew we could handle this civilly.""
I slid the documents across the table.
"There's just one problem.""
His smile disappeared.
"What problem?""
"You're both going to need somewhere else to live.""
Vanessa burst out laughing.
"Sweetheart, this is a $2.4 million property. Daniel owns it.""
I looked directly at her.
"No. His father gave it to me.""
Daniel's expression changed.
"Sarah, don't.""
"Four years ago, your father transferred the property into my name. The deed was recorded at the county office. You know that.""
"That was supposed to be temporary!""
"Was it?""
I walked to the kitchen drawer and removed a folder.
Inside was a certified copy of the deed.
I placed it in front of him.
Sarah Mitchell.
Sole owner.
Vanessa leaned forward.
Her smile slowly disappeared.
"But Daniel told me we'd sell this place and buy a mansion in Buckhead.""
I tilted my head.
"Sell whose house?""
Daniel slammed his fist against the table.
"I'm his son! That house should have been mine!""
"Then you should have asked your father why he chose differently.""
For several seconds, Daniel said nothing.
Then Vanessa reached into her designer handbag.
"Daniel, what about the six-hundred-thousand-dollar loan?""
My stomach tightened.
"What loan?""
Daniel turned toward her so quickly that she stepped backward.
"Vanessa. Don't.""
But she had already removed a document.
"You're telling me we're not buying that Buckhead property because of this?"" she demanded.
"You said the bank had already approved everything!""
She dropped the paperwork onto the table.
I looked at the heading.
A home equity loan.
Principal amount: $600,000.
Property address: my house.
And beneath the section authorizing the loan was a signature.
My signature.
Except I'd never signed it.
I looked at the witness line.
My late father-in-law's name was written there.
But the date was six months after his death.
I slowly raised my eyes toward Daniel.
"Tell me something," I whispered.
"How did a dead man witness my signature?""
Daniel's face had gone completely white.
May you like
And for the first time that morning, my husband looked genuinely afraid.
Because I hadn't seen the final page yet.
