Chapter 4 - Desperation and DemandsTwo weeks into the separation, the reality of their new financial standing had set in with brutal clarity.
The house—my house—was completely dark. Without electricity, water, and gas, living there had become impossible, forcing Diane, Mark, and Eric to cram into Mark’s cramped, moldy two-room apartment across town. For a family accustomed to sprawling square footage, high-end appliances, and having their laundry done for them, it was a descent into the dark ages.
My phone remained blocked to their direct numbers, but Victoria’s office was receiving a barrage of frantic emails and voicemails from their newly appointed, low-budget divorce attorney, a man named Henderson who sounded like he specialized in traffic tickets rather than complex asset litigation.
On a Tuesday afternoon, Victoria invited me to her downtown office to review the latest correspondence.
“They are folding, Claire,” Victoria said with a bright smile, spinning her laptop around to show me an email from Henderson. “Your husband realizes that without your income, his credit score is currently plummeting into the abyss, the bank is threatening criminal fraud charges over the forged loan application, and his parents are facing eviction from their standard of living.”
I read through Henderson’s proposal. They were offering a “generous compromise”: they would agree to a quiet, no-fault divorce if I “generously” signed over the deed to the Greenwich house to Eric and provided a fifty-thousand-dollar lump-sum settlement for his “emotional distress and lost business opportunities.”
I burst out laughing.
“Emotional distress?” I shook my head, sliding the laptop back across the desk. “They broke my laptop, treated me like an indentured servant, and committed bank fraud using my identity. Tell Henderson that if he sends another proposal like this, I’ll instruct you to press criminal forgery charges against Eric immediately.”
“Way ahead of you,” Victoria grinned, pulling a separate legal document from a leather folder. “I already drafted the criminal affidavit regarding the forged loan signature. I told Henderson that we are willing to hold off on filing it with the district attorney’s office if they sign an uncontested property waiver relinquishing all claims to your pre-marital real estate, bank accounts, and business assets by Friday.”
“Will they sign it?” I asked.
“They don't have a choice,” Victoria stated firmly. “Mark’s truck business has officially declared bankruptcy. Diane’s credit cards are maxed out and frozen. And Eric discovered that without your co-signature, he can’t even rent a storage unit for his tools. They are completely destitute.”
Just as Victoria finished speaking, her office phone rang. Her assistant’s voice crackled through the intercom.
“Ms. Vance, you have a visitor in the lobby. It’s Eric Ross. He says he won't leave until Claire speaks to him.”
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Victoria looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Do you want security to escort him out, or do you want a front-row seat to the grand finale?”
I stood up, buttoned my blazer, and felt a profound sense of absolute calm. “Let him in. Let’s see how much family comes first when there’s no money left to spend.”
