Chapter 2 - The Hidden Addendum
I stood frozen in the shadowed hallway, my breath trapped in my chest. The twenty-seven pages of divorce documents in my hand suddenly felt as heavy as lead. For three years, I had built a fortress of logic around my marriage. I had convinced myself that Meredith was a pragmatist, a woman who traded her youth for my capital to save her father’s failing real estate firm.
But her tears tore through my certainty.
“If he believes he'll be happier without me, I have to respect that and let him go,” she had whispered.
Then came the sharp, chilling voice of her mother, Eleanor.
“You are acting like a sentimental fool, Meredith,” Eleanor hissed, her tone laced with a venom I had never heard her use. “We did not endure the last three years for you to suddenly develop a conscience. You know exactly what happens if he doesn’t sign those papers tomorrow.”
“I don’t care about the money, Mom,” Meredith replied, her voice breaking. “I just want him to look at me the way he used to. Before... before everything got so twisted.”
“There is no 'before,'” Eleanor snapped. “There is only tomorrow. The addendum expires at midnight. If Grant doesn’t sign the divorce agreement exactly as it is drafted, the original contract defaults. You lose your share, and more importantly, your sister’s boy loses his trust fund. Do you want Leo to end up back in the system?”
My blood ran cold. The addendum? Leo?
Meredith had a nephew named Leo. He was a quiet, seven-year-old boy who lived with Eleanor after Meredith’s older sister passed away. I had met the child perhaps half a dozen times, mostly at awkward Thanksgiving dinners. I had always assumed Eleanor was his legal guardian. I had absolutely no idea that his financial future—or his safety—was tied to my marriage.
“I won’t let you use Leo against me anymore,” Meredith said, though her voice trembled.
“I’m not using him, darling. I’m protecting him,” Eleanor said smoothly. I heard the scrape of a chair. “Dry your eyes. Grant is a businessman. He operates on logic. He drafted those papers exactly as David advised him to. Let him sign them. Take the twenty million. We walk away.”
David.
David was my business partner. He was the one who had introduced me to Meredith’s family. He had also been the one to recommend the divorce lawyer who drafted the very pages I was holding.
Footsteps echoed on the hardwood. Eleanor was leaving the room. I pressed myself flat against the wall, slipping into the dark alcove near the staircase. Eleanor strode past, her heels clicking aggressively against the floor, heading for the guest wing.
Once the house was silent again, I peered around the corner. Meredith was alone in the living room. She wasn't crying anymore. She moved toward the massive oak bookshelf that lined the far wall. Reaching behind a set of heavy encyclopedias, she pulled out a small, worn velvet box and a folded piece of stationery.
She stared at the items for a long moment, pressing her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Then, she left them sitting on the mahogany coffee table and walked slowly upstairs to our bedroom.
I waited until I heard our bedroom door click shut.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I set the divorce papers on the entryway table and walked into the living room. The moonlight spilled across the coffee table, illuminating the velvet box and the letter.
I reached for the letter first. It was dated exactly one week before our wedding.
I recognized the handwriting immediately. It wasn't Meredith's. It wasn't her mother's. It belonged to Thomas, my late mentor and the man who had essentially raised me in the financial world. He had passed away two years ago from a sudden heart attack.
My hands shook as I unfolded the crisp paper.
Meredith, the letter began. If you are reading this, it means the worst has happened, and Grant is pushing you away. You must remember our agreement. You must protect him from David at all costs. Grant doesn't know what his partner is truly capable of, but if David gains voting control through the divorce clauses, he will strip Grant of everything.
I stared at the words, the room spinning around me. Thomas had known Meredith? They had an agreement?
I opened the velvet box next, expecting jewelry. Instead, I found a silver pocket watch. It was engraved with my initials. But it wasn't mine. It was the watch my grandfather had pawned decades ago to pay for my father’s medical bills—the watch I had spent ten years searching for and never found.
May you like
Underneath it was a tiny, faded photograph. It was a picture of Meredith, much younger, perhaps twenty years old. She was smiling brightly. And standing next to her, with his arm wrapped securely around her waist, was me.
But I had no memory of that day. None at all.
