Chapter 11 - THE SIGNATURE
Two months after Maya was born, the investigation into the quitclaim deed produced an answer.
The handwriting belonged to Evelyn.
Not the signature.
The notes.
The practice marks.
The instructions.
Garret claimed he never intended to file the forged version.
Evelyn claimed it was only an “estate planning exercise.”
Nobody believed that explanation.
But proving intent was more complicated than proving bad judgment.
Natalie explained everything carefully.
“This may take time.”
“I have time.”
“Evelyn may offer a settlement.”
“For what?”
“To prevent related civil claims.”
“I don’t want her money.”
“This isn’t about wanting it.”
“I know.”
I looked at Maya playing beneath a hanging mobile.
“What I want is distance.”
Natalie nodded.
“That we can get.”
The divorce negotiations became uglier before they became easier.
Garret wanted spousal support.
Then withdrew the request after financial discovery began.
He wanted a share of the Redwood Crest proceeds.
Then withdrew that too.
He wanted several pieces of furniture.
I gave them to him.
He wanted the antique desk from the library.
I let him have it.
Paige was furious.
“That desk is worth twenty thousand dollars.”
“It’s furniture.”
“He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Probably not.”
“Then why give it to him?”
I looked at her.
“Because I don’t want to spend ten thousand dollars in attorney fees arguing over a twenty-thousand-dollar desk I don’t even like.”
Paige considered that.
“Fine.”
Then she pointed at me.
“But I’m still judging you.”
“Fair.”
The custody arrangement took longer.
Garret began attending every scheduled visit.
Then every pediatric appointment he was allowed to attend.
He stopped bringing Evelyn.
That mattered.
He stopped asking about my finances.
That mattered too.
He found an apartment.
Sold his sports car.
Started working again.
I didn’t mistake improvement for redemption.
But I noticed it.
For Maya’s sake, I hoped it continued.
Then one afternoon, he arrived for an exchange carrying a small box.
“What’s that?”
“Something I found.”
He handed it to me.
Inside was the missing copy of our prenup.
I looked up.
“Where?”
“Mom’s suitcase.”
My expression hardened.
“She took it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
He hesitated.
That was answer enough.
“Garret.”
“I knew she wanted to read it.”
“You let her take legal documents from my safe?”
“I didn’t stop her.”
I closed the box.
“Thank you for finally telling the truth.”
“Audrey.”
“What?”
“There’s something else.”
Of course there was.
He pulled an envelope from his jacket.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Evelyn’s writing.
At the bottom were four words.
GET HER SIGNATURE FIRST.
I stared at them.
Garret looked sick.
“She planned everything.”
I raised my eyes.
“No.”
He looked confused.
“You helped.”
The truth landed between us.
May you like
He didn’t argue.
And that was how I knew he was finally beginning to understand.
