Chapter 7 - The Midnight Appointment
The following Monday was a blur of forced smiles and manufactured normalcy. I went to work at the gallery, greeted clients, and answered emails, but my mind was miles away, dissecting every conversation, every glance, every forgotten detail from the past few years. The image of Ryan laughing with Tess at Freedom Park was seared into my memory, a constant reminder of the deception I had been living.
At home, I avoided Ryan, creating a physical and emotional distance that he couldn’t ignore. He asked if everything was alright, if I was feeling okay. I simply replied that I was stressed about a new exhibit and needed some space. He accepted my explanation, and I felt a pang of guilt for the lie, but I knew it was necessary. I needed to protect myself.
Later that evening, while Ryan was in the shower, I snuck into his study. His desk was usually meticulously organized, but today, I found a stack of papers shoved beneath a stack of files. I pulled them out, my heart pounding in my chest. It was an application for a home equity loan, dated three months ago. He was borrowing money against our house.
Why would he need so much money? He was a successful lawyer with a good salary.
I opened the application and scanned the details. The loan was for $100,000. The stated purpose was “renovations and home improvements.” But the address he had listed for the improvements was not ours. It was the address of Ms. Evans’s apartment complex.
A cold wave of nausea washed over me. He wasn’t renovating our house. He was building a new life for himself. He was investing in the home he shared with another woman and another child.
I quickly took photos of the application with my phone and then carefully placed it back where I had found it. I needed to act fast. Frank had warned me that Ryan might suspect something if I started making too many moves.
The next morning, I met Frank at a coffee shop miles away from where he usually operated. He listened patiently as I recounted my discovery.
“So, he’s mortgaging your house to fund his other life,” Frank said, shaking his head. “That’s greedy. And greedy people are sloppy.”
“I found the application under his desk,” I explained. “He probably forgot he’d put it there.”
“Does he know you know?” Frank asked.
“No,” I replied. “But I’m sure he’ll know eventually. I’m not going to let him get away with this.”
Frank nodded. “We’ll need a copy of that application. And since you have a court order to serve him with divorce papers and a restraining order, we can use that as a pretext to get access to his office. He’ll be distracted by the service, and we can get what we need without him knowing.”
I didn’t like the idea of using divorce papers as a cover, but I knew Frank was right. I needed to move fast.
The following day, I filed the divorce papers and a restraining order. Ryan was served that afternoon at his office. The news of the lawsuit hit him like a ton of bricks. He was furious, calling me hysterical and irrational. But I stood firm, telling him that I deserved the truth.
That evening, Ryan came home late. He was drunk, his face flushed and his eyes red. He accused me of ruining his life, of making him look like a fool. He even threatened me with legal action, saying he would sue me for defamation.
I didn’t flinch. I had the proof he needed to be disbarred and publicly shamed. I had the evidence to expose him to the world.
“I don’t care about your threats, Ryan,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “I’ve hired the best lawyer in Charlotte. He’s going to tear you apart. And I’m going to make sure the whole world knows what you’ve been doing.”
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He staggered back, his face pale. He finally realized that I was serious.
The next day, Frank and his team executed a raid on Ryan’s office. They seized documents, computer hard drives, and personal files. Within hours, the news had spread like wildfire throughout the legal community. Ryan was under investigation. His reputation was in tatters.
