Chapter 6: The Wife Who Had Already Packed Her Bags
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Jasmine stood in the foyer with her shopping bags at her feet, gripping her phone as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.
“You knew your mother was planning to leave me?”” I finally asked.
Her eyes darted toward the staircase.
“Keep your voice down.””
“Why? Is she afraid I'll hear the truth?””
“Marcus, please.””
“Answer the question.””
Jasmine pressed her lips together.
Then she whispered, “She told me she couldn't live like this forever.””
“Like what?””
“With you being sick. With everything changing. She said she needed a way out if things didn't improve.””
I looked down at my wheelchair.
“Things didn't improve?””
“You know what I mean.””
“No, Jasmine. I don't. Explain it to me.””
She began pacing.
“She said she'd spent years taking care of everyone else. She said she wanted to have a life that wasn't built around your business and your medical appointments.””
I felt a hollow ache beneath my ribs.
“Did she tell you she was transferring money?””
“She said she was making arrangements.””
“Did she tell you about Westbridge?””
Jasmine hesitated.
“Yes.””
“Did she tell you about the trust?””
“I don't know anything about a trust.””
“Did she tell you she wanted control over my company?””
“She said she needed financial security.””
I looked at her.
“And you agreed?””
Jasmine's face crumpled with anger.
“What was I supposed to do? She's my mother!””
“You could have asked whether I knew.””
“You would have stopped her.””
“Maybe because I was entitled to know what was happening to my own money.””
She wiped her eyes.
“You don't understand. Mom said you were different after the accident. She said you were becoming controlling and suspicious. She told me you might try to cut us off.””
I almost smiled.
“So she prepared to take control of my assets because she was afraid I'd stop funding your lifestyle?””
Jasmine didn't answer.
Her silence was enough.
I looked toward the staircase.
“Where is your mother now?””
“She went to meet Evan.””
“Where?””
“I don't know.””
“Jasmine.””
She lowered her head.
“The Connecticut house.””
My heart seemed to stop.
“She's there tonight?””
“I think so.””
“Why?””
Jasmine's voice dropped.
“She said she wanted to check that everything was ready.””
I stared at her.
Ready for what?
A divorce?
A new life?
A future in which I remained in this house, unaware that my wife had already planned her escape?
“Does she intend to take money from our accounts before she leaves?””
“I don't know.””
“Does Evan know?””
“I don't know!””
Her shout echoed through the foyer.
Then she sank onto the bottom step and covered her face.
“I didn't think it would happen like this,” she said.
“I thought she'd just move some money around. I didn't think you'd find out.””
I rolled closer.
“Jasmine, listen to me. I'm not asking you to choose between your mother and me. I'm asking you to stop helping people make decisions about my life without my knowledge.””
She looked up, her cheeks wet.
“I didn't help her do anything.””
“Then tell me everything you know.””
She stared at the floor for a long time.
Finally, she said, “Mom told me the house would be in her name eventually. She said Westbridge was helping her make sure she wouldn't be left with nothing if you decided you didn't need her anymore.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“She said that if you recovered, you might change your mind about the marriage. That you might realize you didn't want to be married to someone who had complained about taking care of you.””
The words were so close to the truth that they hurt.
I had wondered whether Linda's impatience was a temporary response to our circumstances. Now I understood that she had been imagining a future without me while making sure she could afford it.
But one detail still didn't make sense.
“Why would she need control over Carter Construction?””
Jasmine wiped her face.
“Evan said the company was the only way to make sure Mom could keep the house and maintain her lifestyle.””
“Did he say that to you?””
“Yes.””
“What exactly did he tell you?””
She took a shaky breath.
“He said your company was worth more than the money in your personal accounts. He said that if Mom could become the person responsible for managing your affairs, there might be a way to protect the assets before anyone could challenge her.””
I closed my eyes.
There was the motive.
Not simply a woman afraid of being left behind.
A plan that depended on the assumption that I would remain physically disabled, financially dependent, and too trusting to look at the paperwork.
I opened my eyes again.
“Did Evan tell you that I was incapable of managing my affairs?””
Jasmine nodded.
“He said people would understand because of your condition.””
“My condition?””
She flinched.
“He said the doctors' reports could make it easier.””
I stared at her.
My medical records.
My rehabilitation assessments.
Documents I had trusted my wife to help organize.
Had someone been looking for ways to use my injury against me?
I reached for my phone.
“I need to speak to Rebecca.””
Jasmine stood quickly.
“Please don't tell Mom I said all this.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
“Because she'll never forgive me.””
The irony was almost unbearable.
Jasmine had called me a burden, told me she might have preferred dying to living with the consequences of my injury, and watched her mother arrange a financial escape while I struggled to stand.
Now she was frightened of losing her mother's approval.
“What do you think she would do to me if I told her what you said?”” I asked.
Jasmine looked horrified.
“Nothing!””
“Then why are you so afraid?””
She had no answer.
I called Rebecca and put the phone on speaker.
When she answered, I explained that Jasmine had disclosed information about the Connecticut property and Westbridge's involvement.
Rebecca listened carefully.
“Marcus, I need you to be very cautious,” she said.
“Do not confront Evan, and do not attempt to access any accounts or devices that aren't yours. We can preserve the information you've received and ask the appropriate questions through counsel.””
“Can we stop the pending beneficiary change?””
“We've already requested that the bank suspend it. We'll follow up first thing tomorrow.””
“And the company?””
“I'm coordinating with your corporate attorney. We'll review the ownership documents and establish what safeguards are available. We need evidence before we make any conclusions about the proposed arrangement.””
Jasmine stood a few feet away, staring at the floor.
“Rebecca,” I said, “I need to know whether Linda has been accessing my medical records.””
“We can examine the authorization trail where records are available, but medical privacy rules and the provider's systems will determine what information can be released. I'll help you request an access history from your clinic.””
“Please do.””
After we ended the call, I looked at Jasmine.
“You should write down everything you remember about your conversations with Evan and your mother. Dates, messages, what they said. Don't guess. Just record what you actually know.””
She nodded reluctantly.
“Are you going to send me away?””
The question surprised me.
“Why would I?””
“Because I betrayed you.””
I studied her face.
“You helped keep secrets that could hurt me. That's serious. But I'm not going to throw you out in the middle of the night because you've finally told me something true.””
Her eyes filled again.
“I don't know how to fix this.””
“Start by being honest.””
She went upstairs without another word.
That night, I slept in my study.
Not because I wanted to punish Linda.
Because I couldn't bear the thought of lying beside her while wondering whether she had already chosen a new life.
At 1:17 a.m., I woke to the sound of the front door opening.
I heard Linda's heels cross the foyer, followed by the soft click of the door locking.
Then came the sound of suitcase wheels rolling across the hardwood floor.
I opened the study door a few inches.
Linda stood near the staircase, wearing a dark coat. Two suitcases sat beside her, and she was speaking in a whisper.
“Yes, everything is ready,” she said into her phone.
“I'll bring the remaining documents tomorrow.””
A pause.
“No. He doesn't know about the house.””
Another pause.
Her voice became sharper.
“I told you the same thing yesterday. If Marcus starts walking, we have a problem. The medical assessment is supposed to be completed before anyone questions the authorization.””
I gripped the edge of the door.
Linda turned away from the stairs.
“I don't care what Jasmine told him. She doesn't understand the consequences.””
She listened.
Then she said something that made my stomach turn.
“Once the account changes are completed, he can hire as many lawyers as he wants. He won't be able to undo everything.””
I stepped into the hallway.
“Undo what, Linda?””
She spun around.
Her phone nearly slipped from her hand.
For the first time since I had known her, my wife looked genuinely terrified.
“Marcus,” she whispered.
“You're supposed to be asleep.””
I looked at the suitcases.
“Where are you going?””
She glanced at the front door.
“Nowhere. I was just—”
“Don't lie to me again.””
Her face changed.
The fear disappeared, replaced by a coldness I had never seen directed at me.
“Fine,” she said.
“You want the truth?””
I waited.
Linda straightened her coat.
“I was preparing to leave you.””
The words hung in the hallway.
“Because of my injury?”” I asked.
“Because of what our life became.””
“And the money?””
She looked away.
“I needed security.””
“By taking control of my accounts?””
“By protecting myself from a future where I had nothing.””
“You have a house, a car, access to our savings, and a husband who has supported you for eleven years.””
“A husband who may never walk again!””
Her voice cracked through the hallway.
I felt the old wound open inside me.
Then I remembered the steps I had taken that morning.
The way my feet had moved.
The way Daniel had steadied me without asking me to prove anything.
I drew a slow breath.
“You keep talking about what I may never be able to do,” I said.
“But you've never asked what I can do now.””
Linda frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“It means you've been making decisions about my future without bothering to find out what my future might look like.””
She shook her head.
“Don't turn this into another one of your speeches.””
“I'm not.””
I moved my wheelchair slightly away from the wall.
Linda watched me with irritation.
Then I placed both hands on the armrests.
I pushed myself upward.
My legs trembled violently.
Pain shot through my hips, and I gripped the edge of the console table to steady myself.
Linda's face drained of color.
“Marcus?””
I straightened as much as I could.
I was standing.
Not perfectly. Not effortlessly.
But I was standing in front of the woman who had been planning a future around my inability to do exactly that.
She stumbled backward.
“Oh my God.””
I held her gaze.
“You were right about one thing, Linda. Things are about to change.””
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Then she looked at the suitcases, back at me, and finally at the phone still clutched in her hand.
“Marcus,” she whispered, “you don't understand. If you can walk, then you need to know what Evan has already done.””
I tightened my grip on the table.
“What has he done?””
Linda began to cry.
And when she finally answered, the truth was far worse than a secret house or a hidden bank account.
May you like
“He didn't just prepare the documents,” she said.
“He already transferred part of your company.””
