Chapter 3 - The Cold Truth About the Mistress
Ten days after the custody hearing, Marisol and I managed to secure a small, two-bedroom garden apartment on the south side of town. It wasn't luxury—the kitchen cabinets were outdated, and the carpet smelled faintly of lavender carpet powder—but it was clean, safe, and it was ours.
Lily had decorated her corner of the bedroom with drawing paper, Ethan had his dinosaur blanket folded neatly on his new twin bed, and Grace had her pink boots sitting proudly by the front door.
I was sitting at the kitchen island, filing out employment applications for administrative positions, when my phone rang. The caller ID showed an unknown number.
I answered carefully. "Hello?"
"Rebecca?" a hesitant, shaky voice spoke through the line.
It was Vanessa.
Her tone was completely different from the smug, arrogant girl who had called me two weeks ago while my dryer was running in Ohio. The false confidence was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, anxious tremor.
"Why are you calling me, Vanessa?" I asked coldly, keeping my hand flat against the table.
"Grant... Grant kicked me out of his apartment," she stammered, hyperventilating slightly. "He said I ruined everything because I called you. He said the court ordered him to pay temporary support, and now his accounts are frozen, and he lost his bonus at work."
I listened without pity. "That sounds like a problem between you and Grant."
"You don't understand!" Vanessa cried. "He told me he was going to buy me a car! He had me sign a lease on a luxury condo under my name, promising he would pay the security deposit and rent! Now the landlord is threatening to sue me, and Grant won't answer my calls! He blocked my number!"
A bitter, quiet realization washed over me. Grant was using the exact same playbook on Vanessa that he had used on me for fourteen years: entice with security, bind with financial dependency, and discard the moment things became inconvenient.
"Vanessa," I said, my voice measured and calm. "You were twenty-two years old when you decided to help a married man betray his family. You thought you were winning a prize."
"He lied to me!" she sobbed.
"He lies to everyone," I corrected her gently. "He lied to me, he lied to my father, he lied to his children, and he lied to you. The difference is, I spent fourteen years building a life with him. You threw your integrity away for a few hotel rooms and empty promises."
"Can... can you help me?" she asked desperately. "His lawyer told me that if I talk to your lawyer, they’ll press charges against me for harassment because of the photos I sent you!"
I let out a short breath. "If Grant’s lawyer is threatening you, talk to a legal clinic. But do not call my phone again. I am busy raising the children he abandoned."
"Rebecca, wait—"
I hung up the phone and immediately forwarded the call log to Judith.
Ten minutes later, Judith called me back. "Vanessa’s call is golden, Rebecca. Grant used marital funds from your joint account three months ago to pay for Vanessa’s condo application fees. We just found the bank trail. That’s dissipation of marital assets. He owes you every single dollar he spent on her."
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I sat back in my chair, looking at my three children playing board games on the living room rug.
The storm was far from over, but the walls Grant had built around me were crumbling brick by brick—and he was the one pulling them down.
