Page 33 of The Plan
“Ex-husband,” I snap.
“Yes, your ex-husband has a gambling problem. There’s nothing. He’s virtually bankrupt.”
“This is a joke, right?”
“I’m so sorry, Addison.”
I take a few deep breaths as I let what she just said settle in.
“What about the apartment? I own half of that, right?” I ask, desperate to have something from all the years of work I’ve done.
“No. It’s in his name and it’s been re-mortgaged. He owns nothing but the clothes on his back.”
“What the fuck? I signed the paperwork for that flat. We bought it together,” I shout, starting to get angry.
“I can’t find any paperwork that shows that, and trust me, I’ve looked.”
“So basically, you’re telling me that I’m entitled to half of what’s in our apartment and that’s it?”
“Yes, but—”
A thought pops into my head and things suddenly start to make sense.
“I tried to rent a flat here but I got turned down because of something with my credit score. He’s been using my name, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. It seems he’s taken out loans in your name and defaulted on the payments.”
“Fuck.” I fall back onto my makeshift bed as everything I thought I could build over here evaporates into thin air. I’ve got nothing but the few thousand in my own bank account. It’s not enough to start a new life here, let alone start a business.
“I’m so sorry, Addison,” Sarah repeats. “I know it won’t help, but Edward’s distraught.”
“Embarrassed and humiliated, more like.” Suddenly, all his begging for me to stay when I told him I was leaving makes sense. He never wanted me to stay to work on our relationship; he knew that me divorcing him would uncover his dirty secret. Bastard.
“He’s said your job’s open should you want it back. He’s aware of the position this has left you in and wants to offer you a lifeline.”
Sarah says a few other things to me before hanging up, but I don’t hear them. Everything’s crashing down around me once again and it drowns her out.
I’ve got to go back. I need money and I have a job there that pays well. I’d be stupid to turn it down. I could stay for a year or two, save as much as possible, then come back here to continue what I’ve started.
The sight of the logo Cara did for me on the sideboard catches my eye and my first tear falls. Just when I think I have everything together, that motherfucker screws me over again. The thought of leaving here breaks my heart way worse than he did. This is my home; it’s where I’m meant to be, but once again I’m being forced away from it.
I finish what’s left of my cold coffee before dragging my sorry arse into the shower. My reflection catches my eye and it brings back last night. My lipstick is smeared over my face, my eyes are rimmed with make up, and my hair’s a mess.
I chastise myself for even allowing thoughts of Blake to enter my head. What’s the point in thinking about not wanting to leave him when that’s exactly what he did to me at some point in the night?
By the time Aunt Addy appears just over an hour later, my mind is made up.
“Did you have a good night, sweetheart?” she asks with a wink. “I heard Blake come in at some ungodly hour.” She must see my distress written all over my face. “What’s wrong?”
I tell her everything—well, apart from what happened right here on her table last night. I made a point of cleaning that after my shower. Twice.
“You don’t have to go back. I can help you.”
“No. I need to do this myself.”
“Please don’t go. I’m going to really miss you. Blake and Sinead will too.”
“I’ll come back; I just need to get everything together,” I say, ignoring the bit about Blake and Sinead that makes my heart hurt.
