"What did you just say?"
That apartment. I'd bought it before the wedding. Three years ago, Max told me the developer had gone under and the project was dead in the water. He said he'd filed lawsuits, multiple rounds of them, but the developer refused to cooperate.
I'd wanted to dig up evidence myself, push the case further. Max had stopped me.
"Let me handle it," he'd said, his voice soft with what I thought was love. "Why should my wife have to worry about something like this?"
"I just feel bad, Madeline. All these years of long distance, and you can't even live in the home you bought for us."
The guilt in his eyes had been so convincing. I'd told myself that as long as we were in it together, no storm was too big to weather.
Now I understood. He was the storm.
I'd saved for five years before the marriage. Every penny. My parents had quietly slipped me money too, part of my nest egg for the future. All of it had gone into that apartment.
It was everything I'd hoped for. The home where I thought we'd build a quiet, steady life together.
Brenda's voice cut through the fog. "Madeline? Madeline, are you okay? I'm sending you the filing records and the delivery confirmation right now. Don't panic. That apartment is your pre-marital property. He has no legal claim to it."
I hung up. The messages came through instantly.
Clear screenshots of the official filing. A delivery stamp in bold red ink. Even the property management's move-in registration records. And there, in the column marked Owner, a name I didn't recognize.
Abigail Pruitt.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Abigail Pruitt. Max's childhood sweetheart. The one he said had moved abroad three years ago.
She'd been living in my home this entire time.
An empty cab pulled up to the curb. I yanked the door open.
"Lakeview Manor. Now."
The home he'd told me was stalled in construction for three years.
He said it had never been livable.
We were in a long-distance relationship, and the distance was too far for me to visit. I'd never once gone to see it for myself.
But when I finally did, I found it fully renovated, beautifully furnished.
Another woman had already moved in and made herself at home.
I used the spare key Max had given me and opened the front door.
The neighbor next door was already sizing me up with a look of open contempt.