“The house. His investments. His retirement account.”
I stared at her.
The Savannah house had been purchased largely using money my grandmother left me.
Julian knew that.
Everyone close to us knew that.
Sabrina continued carefully.
“He said you never really contributed financially.”
That one actually made me smile.
Not because it was funny.
Because Julian’s salary had been inconsistent for the first three years of our marriage while he built his commercial real estate consulting business.
I had paid our mortgage, utilities, and health insurance more months than I could count.
Sabrina noticed my expression.
“That’s not true.”
“No.”
“I figured.”
“Why?”
“Because he kept changing numbers.”
I looked at her.
“What numbers?”
She leaned back.
“At first he said he bought the house before he met you.”
“He didn’t.”
“Then he said you were on the title temporarily because of financing.”
“That’s also false.”
“Then last month he said the divorce settlement would require him to sell it.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“When?”
“About three weeks ago.”
I put down my water.
“What exactly did he say?”
Sabrina searched her messages.
Then she turned the phone toward me.
There it was.
A message from Julian.
Once Camille signs the final property release, I can sell Savannah and we can stop planning around my past.
Below it Sabrina had replied:
I thought she already moved?
Julian:
She did. Lawyers are just lawyers. Everything takes forever.
Another message.
After the sale, maybe we finally start looking seriously at Hilton Head.
Sabrina took the phone back.
“He talked about us buying a place there.”
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“With what money?”
She hesitated.
“That’s where things get complicated.”
I waited.
Sabrina wrapped both hands around the coffee cup.
“Julian said he had equity tied up because of the divorce.”
I stared at her.
“What did he ask you for?”
Her eyes lifted.
“He didn’t exactly ask.”
“That means he asked.”
She looked down.
“He said he had an investment opportunity through one of his clients.”
“How much?”
Sabrina didn’t answer immediately.
“How much?”
“Seventy-five thousand.”
I stared at her.
“You gave my husband seventy-five thousand dollars?”
“Not directly.”
“How?”
“I invested in an LLC he created.”
“What LLC?”
“Harbor Ridge Development.”
