Chapter 5 - MY SIGNATURE
We went to Malibu that morning.
I left Daniel standing in his mother’s kitchen.
He called eleven times before we reached Pacific Coast Highway.
I answered none of them.
The moment Claire opened the Malibu house, I smelled cedar, salt air, and the faint lemon cleaner her staff always used.
For the first time in years, I felt like I had stepped back into my own life.
My father’s old bookshelf still stood beside the windows.
The kitchen tiles we had chosen together were unchanged.
I touched the edge of the counter.
“I should never have left.”
Claire set the documents down.
“You trusted your husband.”
“That sounds stupid now.”
“It wasn’t stupid.”
I looked through the lender correspondence.
The application contained personal financial information Daniel could easily have accessed during our marriage.
My previous address.
Income estimates.
Property details.
Even an old copy of my driver’s license information.
Then I reached the signature page.
My name was written at the bottom.
Emily Harper.
But I hadn’t signed it.
I stared at the page until the letters blurred.
Claire sat across from me.
“There’s more.”
“Of course there is.”
“The lender rejected the application because the signature verification failed.”
I almost smiled.
“So Daniel got nothing.”
“From that lender.”
The relief vanished.
“What does that mean?”
Claire slid another document toward me.
“A second inquiry was made through a private financing company.”
I looked at the date.
Three weeks earlier.
“Did they get money?”
“We don’t know yet.”
My phone rang again.
This time it was Linda.
I answered.
Her voice exploded immediately.
“You have embarrassed my son enough.”
I said nothing.
“You’re his wife. Whatever he did was for both of you.”
“No, Linda.”
“If his business collapses, that affects your marriage.”
“I think Daniel handled the marriage part himself.”
She went quiet.
Then her voice changed.
Cold.
“You think that Malibu house makes you powerful?”
I looked through the windows at the ocean.
“No.”
“Then what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving.”
“You’ll regret humiliating this family.”
That sentence finally made something click.
Not Daniel.
Not my son.
This family.
I looked at Claire.
“Linda, who suggested using my Malibu property?”
Silence.
Then the call ended.
May you like
Claire and I stared at each other.
Neither of us needed an answer anymore.
