Chapter 9 - WHAT THE RECORDS SHOWED
Victor and Rita’s plan became clearer over the next four months.
The house was worth far more than I realized.
The neighborhood had changed. Developers had purchased nearby parcels. My four wooded acres sat near a planned commercial expansion corridor.
Victor knew.
I did not.
A private buyer had already approached him informally.
The potential value was nearly three times the figure I carried in my head.
Rita’s company had been formed seven months earlier.
Victor planned to use the power of attorney to transfer the property into that company under the explanation of “asset management.”
Once there, it could be refinanced or sold through transactions I would struggle to unwind after the fact.
And the affair?
Two years.
Confirmed through messages.
Some were humiliating.
Others were worse because they were ordinary.
Restaurant reservations.
Hotel plans.
Jokes about me.
One message from Victor read:
Sarah won’t leave. She doesn’t know how to live for herself.
Rita answered:
Good. Makes this easier.
I read that exchange once.
Then I closed the file.
Helen asked whether I wanted a copy.
“No.”
“You may need it later.”
“Then you keep it.”
I did not want to decorate my future with evidence of my husband’s contempt.
The attempted deed never transferred.
The power of attorney was revoked before Victor used it.
The circumstances surrounding its execution became central to our divorce and the related civil claims.
Rita’s role created separate professional and legal problems for her.
Victor insisted for months that the house arrangement had been legitimate financial planning distorted by marital anger.
That argument weakened considerably when correspondence showed he and Rita discussing how quickly the transfer needed to happen after our surgeries.
One message from Victor said:
Once recorded, Sarah can yell all she wants.
That was the line that finally killed whatever pity I had left.
Not love.
May you like
Love took longer.
But pity died immediately.
