Chapter 3
His name was Frank Miles.
He wasn't some big shot, just a high school classmate who studied law.
He ran a small law firm on the east side of the city.
We hadn't really kept in touch after graduation, only having the usual holiday greetings.
When I called him, he sounded surprised. "Susan? Which Susan?"
"The one who sat behind you in sophomore year," I said.
"Oh. It's you. It's been years. What's up?"
"I need some advice. Can we meet?"
His law firm was on the sixth floor of an old office building. It was small, not even a front desk.
I took out my notebook, opened it, and slid it over to him.
He studied it for a good five minutes. "Your husband's cheating, the other woman's pregnant, and he's sent over one hundred thousand dollars. You want a divorce?"
"No."
He looked up at me.
"I want to know how to protect the assets. Or rather, how to get my hands on them."
Frank leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. "You're in a tough spot right now. The house, the car, and the company are all pre-marital assets.
"Nothing's in your name. Even if you sue him for cheating and the court grants a divorce, you won't get much."
"So what should I do?"
"Two options. First, gather solid evidence of his affair and any transfer of marital assets. The more airtight, the better. That's your leverage for negotiations or if it goes to court.
"Second, and this one's even more important. You need to get something under your own name.
"You can't touch what he had before marriage, but anything he earns after, any property bought after, and any increase in value, all of that counts as marital property.
"Your job is to make sure he keeps putting money into accounts you can access after the wedding."
I got it. "So you mean, I can't let him get suspicious right now."
"Exactly. If you make a fuss, he'll move everything, and you'll end up with nothing. But if you play it cool, he'll feel safe, keep making money, and keep funneling it into the family accounts.
"The longer you wait, the more marital property there is, and the bigger your share."
Frank looked at me. "But this road isn't easy. You'll have to endure."
"How long?"
"Depends."
"Three years, five years, maybe even longer."
I closed the notebook and slipped it back into my bag. "Alright."
He called out to me, "Susan, are you sure about this? This isn't something you can pull off in a day or two.
"You'll have to stay with a man who betrayed you, acting like nothing's wrong, maybe for years."
I paused at his office door and glanced back at him. "Frank, I've been his unpaid maid for eight years, no job, no savings, and no friends.
"When he cheated, I didn't even have the right to divorce him. Do you think I have any other choice?"
He didn't say another word.
I walked out of that old office building. It was raining outside.
I hadn't brought an umbrella. So I stood there in the rain, reading through the list Frank had given me.
It listed: [Step one: Gather evidence of the affair. Keep collecting. Don't tip him off.
[Step two: Secretly track all household income, expenses, and any changes in assets.
Step three: Find ways to maximize the marital property.
[Step four: Wait.]
The rain soaked the list, making the ink run.
I folded it up and tucked it into the deepest pocket of my bag.
*****
When I got home, Edward was changing clothes.
He smelled like perfume, not my brand.
"You're back? Where'd you go today?" Edward asked.
"Played cards," I said.
"Again? Can't you do something useful for once?" he grumbled and went into the bathroom.
I heard the shower running.
He was washing off the other woman's scent.
I opened the closet, pulled out the notebook, and jotted down the date. It was Day One.