According to that legal document, I had supposedly authorized Mark to use my house as collateral for a high interest “family” loan.
The signature looked almost like mine, but it had a strange, jerky tremor, as if someone had painstakingly copied it from my driver’s license.
“Where on earth did you get this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“I found it buried in his suitcase while he was sleeping,” she explained. “There were also messages with someone named Oscar. I am fairly certain he is a predatory loan shark.”
I felt physically sick to my stomach.
This was not just about infidelity or public humiliation anymore.
Mark had tried to use my assets, my hard work, and my security to finance the life he was busy flaunting with another woman.
I called my lawyer, Amanda, as soon as I walked out of that coffee shop.
In less than a week, we had filed a formal complaint for forgery, attempted fraud, harassment, and severe online violence.
We also turned over all the high definition security footage and the bank statements I had gathered with David.
The divorce hearing arrived at the family court with more people present than I ever wanted.
Mark appeared in a poorly ironed gray suit, looking desperate.
Martha walked behind him, praying loudly for everyone to hear.
Brenda was not recording this time, as she seemed to realize the gravity of the situation.
Melanie sat on the opposite side of the room, far away from all of them.
