Chapter 5
When Georgia was in the hospital, I took ten days off work, spent my days at the hospital, and handled my job at night back home.
Alexander's follow-up appointments were at a hospital more than 12 miles away, and every trip took at least half a day.
The month before Michael's wedding, I compared hotels, found a car team, made the guest list. And after the wedding, my voice was gone for three days.
None of that could be written into a spreadsheet.
On Saturday morning, I took my organized bank statements to the law firm.
The lawyer who met me was Holly Green, around forty, and she was sharp and to the point. She started by looking over the property details, then flipped through the bank statements I'd printed out.
"The house is registered under your husband and his parents' names, right? And the purchase and loan agreements were all signed before you got married?" Holly asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"And after you got married, were all the mortgage payments made from your account?"
"For the first four and a half years, yeah. But in the last six months, there were two months when he chipped in part of the payment."
Holly circled a few transactions on the statements.
She explained, "Income earned during the marriage is generally considered joint property.
"Even if the mortgage was paid directly from your salary, the court will take into account both your incomes, your shared life, and any increase in the house's value.
"The ownership is pretty straightforward, so you can ask for compensation for the mortgage payments you made after getting married."
"What about the renovation costs?" I asked.
"If you have the contract and payment records, you can include those in your claim as well. Who's currently living in the house?"
"He and his parents occasionally stay there. My in-laws have their own place, so most of the time it's the two of us."
"Have you already moved out?"
"Yes, I have."
Holly looked up at me.
"So, are you planning to get divorced?" she asked.
I paused for a moment.
Before I stepped into the law firm, I'd told myself I was only here to see how things worked.
But when I actually heard Holly say "divorce," I froze for a second.
Andrew hadn't brought up divorce.
He probably still thought I'd be back in a few days.
We'd never had any big fights in our five years together. No one ever got physical, no one gambled, and no one racked up a mountain of debt. To outsiders, we always looked like a solid couple.
He'd pick me up when I worked late, remember I hated cilantro, and always brought back little souvenirs from his business trips.
When Georgia was in the hospital and when he was swamped, he had still shown up in the middle of the night to bring me food.
Life wasn't so bad that we couldn't keep going.
But once Emily came into the picture, he started dividing his attention and money between us, leaving me to shoulder everything he used to take care of.
He thought these small changes wouldn't shake our marriage.
But for the first time, I realized that whenever he decided something else mattered more, everything I did got lumped in as "part of the household routine and nothing special."
"I haven't decided yet," I admitted.
Holly didn't push for more. She simply gave me a list of documents I should hang onto.
She advised, "No matter if you end up divorcing or not, it's smart to get your finances in order. Keep track of your joint account balances, big transfers, insurance, retirement funds, and any vehicles.
"Getting prepared doesn't mean you're definitely getting divorced. It means you know what you've got."
As I left the law firm, Andrew was posting in the family group chat.
He'd picked up some blood pressure meds for Alexander and sent a photo of the box, asking me if it was the right kind.
I opened the picture. The brand was right, but the dosage was off.
Alexander always takes the 5mg ones, but Andrew grabbed the 10mg.
I typed out a note to correct him, but ended up deleting it.
Finally, I replied: [Check the prescription.]
Georgia sent me a private message right away: [You know exactly which meds your father-in-law takes. Couldn't you tell him directly? Drew went to two pharmacies today, finally managed to get it.]
[The prescription's in the TV stand, second shelf,] I replied.
She replied, [We can't make sense of those prescriptions. You always handled it before.]
I stared at the words [You always handled it before,] then closed the chat window.
That afternoon, Andrew called.
"I've changed the meds," he said.
"Alright," I said.
"Mom said you've been sorting through the bank transfers lately."
Georgia had asked me a few days ago why I was suddenly digging up the hospital bills from her stay two years back. I didn't hide it. I told her I was checking over the expenses.
Andrew paused for a moment. "What are you trying to do?"
"Checking how much I've spent over the years," I replied.
"Is that necessary?"
"Of course."
"Sarah, I told you I'd handle the mortgage and take care of my parents. Are you planning to dig through all the old expenses and demand every dime back?"
"Whether I can get the money back is one thing. Whether I should know where it all went is a whole different story."
Andrew's voice turned icy. "That 27,000 dollars for Michael was a loan. I'll make sure he pays it back. And when my parents have some extra cash, they'll cover their own medical bills.
"If you keep bringing up old bills like this, it's going to upset everyone in our family."
"They sure didn't feel upset when they were spending it," I retorted.
All I could hear was his heavy breathing on the other end.
After a moment, he said, "Emily's already started sending out resumes. Once she finds a job, I won't be giving her any more support. You don't have to go this far."
"And where exactly is the money you're giving her coming from?" I asked.
"From my bank account."
"I put money into that account, too."
"I'll pay you back."
"Alright."
I ended the call and wrote his promise down next to my account book.