Chapter 3
During the first month, Joanne posted a photo of the demolition site.
She wrote: [The old decor is so ugly. Gotta tear it all down and start over!]
The old decor? I'd spent 10 thousand dollars on that basic makeover.
I was fresh out of college and broke, so I did the bare minimum.
Joanne hated how it looked.
That was fine.
The next month, Joanne posted about upgrading the wiring and plumbing.
She wrote: [Getting smart home features, fancy lighting, heated floors, central AC all set up in one shot!]
In the third month, Joanne showed off her new marble tiles and hardwood floors.
Joanne posted: [Marble from Saskein and black walnut floors from North Tacdiff. This is just next level.]
In the fourth month, the custom furniture was delivered and installed.
Joanne wrote: [Custom furniture for the whole place cost 40 thousand dollars, but it was totally worth it.]
I took screenshots of every post she made and found backups of all the receipts in Andrew's email.
Joanne was super meticulous. She'd snap a pic of every renovation expense and send it to Andrew, always noting how much was spent.
The renovation took four and a half months and the total cost was 167 thousand dollars.
So, how much did Andrew actually "sponsor"?
I checked the transfer records. It was 100 thousand dollars.
He split it into five payments, each one was for 20 thousand dollars.
I checked where that money come from and 65 thousand dollars of it was taken from our joint savings.
He told me he'd "invested" that 65 thousand dollars in a friend's project.
Another 35 thousand dollars was from his own savings.
Joanne covered the last 67 thousand dollars herself.
I organized all the numbers and sent them to Lisette.
After she read them, Lisette was silent for a long time.
"Nicole," she finally said.
"Yeah?" I replied.
"The 65 thousand dollars he took from your joint account counts as shared assets. Since he gave it to Joanne without asking you, you're entitled to claim it back," Lisette explained.
"I know," I said.
"And the fact that he let Joanne stay in your premarital property was a serious issue. When you file for divorce, you have grounds to claim—"
"I know," I cut her off. "But not right now."
"You're still waiting?" Lisette asked.
"Joanne posted that once the renovation's done, she's throwing a housewarming party and inviting everyone to come see the place."
Lisette went quiet.
"I'm waiting for that day," I said.
I stared at Joanne's latest post on my phone.
It was a photo of the living room, with a crystal chandelier, marble coffee table, floor-to-ceiling windows.
The caption said: [Almost finished! Once it's done, everyone's welcome to visit my new home.]
Her new home? I couldn't help but laugh.
Well, the name on the deed was mine.
While I was waiting, I found out something else.
That night, Andrew was in the shower, and his phone was charging in the living room.
A WhatsApp message popped up.
The notification showed the first few words.
Mom: [Joanne's side...]
Andrew's mom was my mother-in-law.
I didn't touch his phone.
I used my own phone to access Andrew's WhatsApp on his laptop.
His laptop had been logged in the whole time; he just forgot about it.
I went through Andrew's chat history with his mom.
All the messages were still there. Guess he thought there was no reason to wipe his chats with his mom.
I started from the top.
The first message was from three months ago.
His mom: [How's the renovation going for Joanne?]
Andrew: [Almost done. Installing the cabinets right now.]
His mom: [Bet that cost a pretty penny, huh?]
Andrew: [About 170 thousand dollars.]
His mom: [Well, she's with you now, so you gotta make sure she has a home.]
My fist clenched.
I kept scrolling.
His mom: [Your wife hasn't caught on, right?]
Andrew: [Nope. She's way too busy to care about any of this.]
His mom: [Good. Joanne's a sweet girl, gentle and considerate.
[She's so much better than your wife. Your wife only cares about her job and doesn't bother with the house at all. Joanne is so caring in comparison.]
I stared at those words.
Every holiday, I'd buy gifts for my mother-in-law, give her money, and organize family meals.
And what does she do? Behind my back, she was praising her son's mistress.
There was another string of messages two weeks ago.
His mom: [Joanne says the renovation's almost finished, and she's planning to invite her friends over to see the place. Is that right?]
Andrew: [Yeah, she's happy about it.]
His mom: [You shouldn't go. Don't let anyone get a photo of you there. Make sure Nicole doesn't find out.]
Andrew: [I know.]
His mom: [Honestly, if you really want Joanne, you should just divorce Nicole and marry Joanne. Nicole's just too domineering. She's not wife material.]
His mom's remarks about me echoed in my ears.
I finished going through all those chat logs, taking screenshots and saving them. Then I closed the desktop app.
I sat there, hands resting on my knees.
My hands had finally stopped shaking.
Back then, seeing the evidence made my hands shake.
But not anymore. I'd moved past the anger. Now, I just wanted to win.
*****
The day the renovation wrapped up, Joanne posted on her social media nine photos in total.
It included the living room, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, study, and balcony.
Each shot looked like it belonged in a model home.
The caption said: [Five months in the making, and it's finally finished! This is my dream home. The housewarming party is this Saturday. Besties, you better come.]