“Yes.”
“He can’t sell our house without me.”
“Correct.”
“Did he know that?”
“I assumed your signatures were already being prepared.”
Rebecca interrupted.
“What date was the projected financing scheduled?”
Elise checked something.
“Monday.”
I stared at her.
Monday.
Our anniversary had been Friday.
Julian had arranged an elaborate anniversary dinner four days before he planned to use our house to resolve his business obligations.
Suddenly I remembered something.
Two weeks earlier, he had told me our financial adviser wanted us to review an estate planning packet.
He said he would bring it home after our anniversary weekend.
I had laughed and told him nothing was more romantic than estate planning.
Monday.
I looked at Rebecca.
“He was going to get me to sign something.”
She nodded slowly.
“Possibly.”
My hands turned cold.
The anniversary dinner had not merely been a sentimental performance.
It may have been part of the setup.
Keep Camille happy.
Make the marriage feel secure.
Then place documents in front of her.
That realization hurt differently from Sabrina.
Cheating was selfish.
This was strategic.
After the call, I drove back to Savannah with Rebecca’s advice repeating in my head.
Do not confront him about Monday.
Not yet.
I entered the house just after sunset.
Julian looked genuinely surprised to see me.
“Camille.”
I placed my purse on the table.
“We need to talk.”
He stood.
“I’ve been calling you.”
“I know.”
“Are you coming home?”
“I’m here.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I looked at him.
“What were you planning for Monday?”
His face barely moved.
“Monday?”
“Yes.”
He shrugged.
“Work.”
“Anything for me to sign?”
There it was.
A flicker.
“No.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
Julian watched me carefully.
“Why?”
“No reason.”
I walked toward the stairs.
He followed.
“Camille.”
I turned.
“What?”
“You’re acting strange.”
I almost smiled.
“That’s an interesting standard.”
He looked irritated.
“Are you staying tonight?”
“No.”
“What are you here for?”
“Some clothes.”
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
I packed slowly.
In the home office, I opened the desk drawers.
Julian stood in the hallway.
“What are you looking for?”
“Tax documents.”
“Why?”
“My attorney asked.”
His jaw tightened.
“You don’t need to involve attorneys in every detail.”
I ignored him.
In the bottom drawer, beneath insurance paperwork, I found a blue folder.
Estate Planning Review.
I carried it to the desk.
Julian moved toward me.
“That’s not relevant.”
I opened it.
Inside were routine-looking documents.
Beneficiary forms.
Property schedules.
A revocable trust summary.
Then a document titled Spousal Consent and Property Authorization.
My name was highlighted.
A signature tab marked the bottom.
I read.
Slowly.
The language was dense.
But one phrase stood out.
Authority to pledge, refinance, encumber, transfer, or otherwise utilize jointly held real property in connection with specified business obligations.
I looked up.
Julian had gone pale.
“This is what you were going to ask me to sign Monday.”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
I laughed.
He had used that sentence so many times it had become meaningless.
“What does it look like?”
“A general authorization.”
“For my house.”
“Our house.”
“Purchased mostly with my inheritance.”
“Camille.”
“For your debts.”
“They are business obligations.”
“Your business obligations.”
“They affect both of us.”
“No.”
I held up the paper.
“You wanted them to affect both of us.”
His face hardened.
“You’re listening to people who don’t understand the situation.”
“I spoke to Elise.”
That stopped him completely.
“What?”
“I spoke to Elise Vaughn.”
He stared.
“She had no right.”
“To tell me my house was on your financing schedule?”
“She doesn’t know the whole picture.”
“Who does?”
“I do.”
“Then explain it.”
He started pacing.
“I had several projects overlap.”
“Meaning?”
“Capital moved faster than expected.”
“Meaning?”
“Some closings didn’t happen.”
“Meaning you owe people money.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
He stopped.
“How much?”
“About four hundred.”
My throat tightened.
“Four hundred thousand dollars?”
“Approximately.”
“Does that include Sabrina?”
“Yes.”
“Does it include my Richmond line?”
“Yes.”
“Does it include our savings?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“That’s almost everything.”
“No.”
“It’s almost everything liquid we have access to.”
