Page 21 of The Liar I Married
I run memories through my mind. “I’m still a little vague on the details but after you gave me Grandma’s letter, I recall searching for documents before the accident and finding nothing apart from a diary which seems to have mysteriously vanished. I confronted my father and he told me to mind my own business.” I sigh. “So now you know the reason why Grandma changed her will, what are my options?”
“Jessie, considering that you’ve just come out of a coma, and your memory of that time hasn’t returned, we have to consider your ability to manage the estate. As executor of your grandmother’s will, it’s my duty to ensure the estate is handled properly. At the moment, the portfolio is being handled by Legacy Securities, a firm engaged by your grandmother prior to her death. I can see no reason to remove the portfolio from that company and transfer it to John, especially knowing the circumstances. Although, I’m sure his firm would be more than happy to take on such a lucrative property.”
I look at him, not completely understanding. “My grandmother left me the property in her will…surely now that I’m awake I can take control of it?”
“This is where we come to a legal problem.” Mr. Collins blinks a few times as if trying to get his words into order. “This is one of the reasons you’ve been kept isolated from everyone including social media and television. The will categorically states that you must be of sound mind to inherit. So I’m overseeing the estate and making all the decisions necessary to give you as much time as possible to recover. I don’t have a time limit on this as probate takes as long as it takes. Until I am satisfied one way or the other, nothing is being transferred to anyone.” He sighs. “It was your grandmother’s wishes that you inherit her estate and I will do everything in my power to ensure that happens.”
My mind spins. This can’t be happening. I’m not of sound mind just because I can’t remember the couple of days before the accident? That could be a medical condition I have no control over. “Not recalling the accident doesn’t make me not of sound mind, does it? I am in control of my faculties. I’m not brain damaged. Many people can’t recall alarming things that happened to them. It’s when the brain protects us from bad memories. The thing is, I remember the accident but what I can’t recall is the day it happened.”
“It’s not how I feel about you personally.” Mr. Collins removes his glasses to clean them, all the time eyeing me with interest. “I would get a doctor’s assessment if I needed one but our problem is those people who want your inheritance. They will try and make a court believe they have proof you’re unbalanced.”
I swallow the bile in my mouth. “Unbalanced? What makes me appear that way? Is it because I’ve demanded to know if my kids are alive and well?” I look at him and see the truth. “That’s why they sedated me, isn’t it, to make me look crazy? And every time they drugged me they made notes. Can they use that against me?”
“Unfortunately they can try.” Mr. Collins peered at me over the top of his spectacles.
I stare at Mr. Collins, not knowing how to respond, but suddenly the crazy things happening around me make sense. Seeing my kids in the garden, the phone call late at night, and the roses this morning. Are they all part of some sinister plot to unhinge me? If so, who would benefit? Only I know what’s written in the will, well, apart from Mr. Collins and he wouldn’t tell anyone. Michael would benefit but he’s overseas and living in blissful ignorance of the terms of the will. I clear my throat. “So if I sign the document to give John power of attorney, asnothing is mentioned in the will to prevent him, he could in fact, take control of my inheritance. Is that correct?”
“Yes, indeed he can. He is married to you and you have every legal right to give him power of attorney if you feel that you’re incapable of running the estate. Once you put that in writing I’ll have no option but to transfer the estate. He’ll be acting on your behalf.”
I nod as the implications sink deep, churning my gut. “Can I revoke it when I’m well?”
“Yes, it would be easy in normal circumstances but if John protests your decision, you may need to prove in court that you’re of sound mind.” Collins sighs. “It could become messy. If you want my professional advice, I would give yourself at least a month or so to get your head on straight. I don’t believe after less than a week you should be making decisions like this, when the estate is not in any danger. Everything is going along exactly as it did when your grandmother was in charge. If anything changes, I will inform you.”
A knock comes on the door and Maria steps inside. “Mr. Harper and Ms. Lawson are here. Do you want me to show them in?”
I nod. “Yes, of course, we’ve been waiting for them.”
Ms. Lawson walks into the room in a cloud of fragrance, dressed as if she’d just stepped off the front page ofVogue. She gives me a tight smile and waits for John to pull out a chair for her, as if it’s a natural thing for him to do. As she reaches into her briefcase, I notice she isn’t wearing my bracelet this time. I shoot a glance at John, my suspicions flaring anew, because in its place is a sparkling new diamond bracelet. She places the documents on the table and then acknowledges Mr. Collins. I lean forward, my gaze moving to my lawyer. “Mr. Collins, may I introduce you to Ms. Lawson?”
“Let’s cut straight to the chase.” Ms. Lawson ignores me completely and directs her conversation toward my lawyer. “This is a very simple power of attorney issue, to ensure your client’s property is handled in the family. The estate has been in limbo for over twelve months. It’s time to move on. I’m sure you would appreciate having this responsibility removed from your desk.”
I ignore her completely and look straight at John. “After speaking with Mr. Collins, I’ve decided not to sign. You’re assuming that I’m not capable of running the estate. I agree, I haven’t remembered everything before the wreck, but things are coming back really fast, and I’d prefer to leave everything status quo for a few more weeks until I can get on my feet again. I’m sure you understand?”
“Mr. Collins, please speak to your client about the necessity of doing this?” Ms. Lawson’s eyes flash with anger.
“This is all we’ve been speaking about since I arrived.” Mr. Collins opens his hands. “I gave my advice and I’m taking my client’s directions.”
“Can we have a moment alone, Jessie?” John steps away from the door and looks at me before turning his attention to the lawyers. “It will only take a minute.”
As Collins and Ms. Lawson leave the room, John sits on the corner of the desk. He slides close to me and reaches inside his pocket. He produces a velvet pouch and pours my bracelet and wedding ring onto his palm. He takes my hand and gently kisses my knuckles before slipping my wedding ring on my finger. The fit is loose. It seems I’ve lost weight on my fingers as well. I clasp my hand into a fist and stare into his mesmerizing blue eyes. He takes my other hand and attaches the bracelet; it was always a little tight but now is a perfect fit. My stomach gives that little flutter that always happens when he’s close, but does he belong to me or is this a ruse to make me sign the documents?
I stare at the jewelry. I should be overjoyed but my mind is a whirlpool of confusion and suspicion. I grip my hands together to stop them trembling and it soon passes. The weight of the bracelet is strangely comforting as if it’s come home. I want to believe so much that John cares, I ache for him but is this an olive branch or another manipulation? I can see by his expression he is waiting for a reaction, for me to say how wonderful it is he’s returned my jewelry. “Why are you giving these back to me now? You could have brought them when I regained consciousness. Do you know how horrible it was to wake up and find my wedding ring missing? It was like being abandoned. You know I’ve never removed my wedding ring or that bracelet since the day we married. As they mean so much to me, I expected you to give them back to me right away.”
“I didn’t expect you to live, Jessie.” He heaves a sigh. “I’ve carried them in my pocket since they took you to the hospital.” John’s gaze is steady but distant. “Right now, I need you to trust me.” His lips raise in a half-smile. “You know I’m the best man for the job of running the portfolio. Collins is barely paying for the upkeep of the house. Sign the papers, Jessie. It’s in our best interests.”
Trust him? How can I when he won’t even tell me about my girls? His hand cups my cheek and he bends to kiss me. It’s so soft and intimate I want to lean into him and lose myself. Is he using his charm to manipulate me? Nothing is making sense anymore. I don’t know my friends, and weird things keep happening. Time seems to blend together in a maddening deception. I’m suffocating and the walls are closing in around me. Gasping for breath, I push away from him. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
“Then let me help you. Sign the papers, Jessie, and I’ll take care of everything.” John’s hand drops from my cheek and his expression hardens. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”
He acts so loving and, yet, is it a ploy to get my entire inheritance? It could never happen but he doesn’t know that, does he? He believes the wills we made together leaving everything to the survivor are still current but I changed mine, leaving the Stonebridge estate in its entirety to Michael.
I look at John, willing my mind to accept his word but what if he orchestrated everything that’s happened since I regained consciousness to make me look as if I’m losing my mind? It would mean I’m not competent to inherit the estate. I’m falling into a whirlpool of indecision. How can I possibly trust him when nothing makes sense. How can I trust anyone?
TWENTY-FOUR
4 MONTHS BEFORE THE ACCIDENT
The last couple of weeks have been brutal. John believes I’m losing my mind. He considers my concerns about my father ridiculous and a manifestation of an overactive imagination. He just can’t understand why I need to spend time with him. His main focus is on his work, and his ambition to rise to the top of his profession is more important than anything. He’ll allow nothing to stand in his way—including me. He spends more and more time away from home now and last week I moved my things into the spare room. I just can’t stand feeling the empty space beside me in bed night after night. The last time he came home he didn’t even seem to notice I wasn’t there. We’ve missed a few of the local celebrations, and people are starting to talk, so I avoid the tennis club and the nosy so-called friends, who spy into every detail of my marriage. The only place I find respite is at the art studio. I’ve slowly been replacing the pictures the decorator placed on our walls with some of my own. Each of them holds a special memory, a tiny glimpse into a time when I was laughing and without a worry in the world.
