I put laxatives in my husband’s coffee before he left to see his mistress

NATALIE CARTER.

I should have called out again.

Instead, I opened it.

The first page was a draft separation agreement.

The second was a proposed financial disclosure.

The third made me stop breathing.

It was an application connected to a home-equity line secured against our house.

$185,000.

Brad’s signature appeared at the bottom.

So did something that looked very much like mine.

I had never signed it.

I flipped pages faster.

Statements.

Transfers.

An account I didn’t recognize.

Over the previous eleven months, Brad had moved money from our joint savings into a separate account.

$8,000.

$12,500.

$6,400.

$19,000.

Altogether, more than $73,000.

Then I found the property appraisal.

Our house had been valued at $612,000.

We owed less than $190,000.

Written in Brad’s handwriting:

After refi + payout, N gets enough to leave.

N.

Me.

Then:

M and I keep house?

I stared at those five words.

Melissa and I keep house.

They weren’t planning an affair.

They were planning a replacement.

I heard movement upstairs.