Chapter 12 - THE DIVORCE HE THOUGHT HE COULD CONTROL
Aaron's attorneys finally received the complete financial disclosures from Nathan seven months after I left.
By then, the divorce had become considerably more complicated than Aaron expected.
He originally assumed our negotiations would concern the house outside Boston, several joint accounts, our vehicles, and the assets we accumulated during our three-year marriage.
He never anticipated that my separate investment holdings would require reviewing a family trust worth far more than he imagined.
But the documents were clear.
My grandfather had left me the Harborstone interest before I married.
The prenup included the required disclosure of my beneficial interest.
The investment had remained separately held, and I had never transferred marital funds into it.
Nathan carefully documented the facts so the agreement could be evaluated under the applicable legal standards.
Aaron's lawyers reviewed everything.
Eventually, they stopped suggesting that my inheritance was somehow part of his business empire.
But Aaron still wanted to negotiate.
Not merely the property settlement.
He wanted access to me.
One afternoon, Nathan called.
“Aaron has requested a meeting.”
“With you?”
“With both of us.”
“Why?”
“He says he wants to resolve matters personally.”
I almost declined.
Then I decided that one properly arranged meeting, with legal counsel present, might help bring the negotiations to an end.
We met in a neutral conference room.
Aaron arrived alone.
No Jasmine.
No Vivian.
No Brooke.
Just the man I had married three years earlier.
For several seconds, he stared at me.
“You look different.”
“I feel different.”
He nodded.
Then he looked toward Nathan.
“Can I speak to Claire privately?”
“No,” I answered.
Aaron flinched.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
He folded his hands.
“I've been thinking about what happened.”
I waited.
“I know I hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“I know I neglected you.”
“Yes.”
“And I know I allowed Jasmine into parts of my life where she never should have been.”
I looked directly at him.
“You didn't allow her into those places by accident.”
His eyes dropped.
“No.”
The admission was quiet.
But it was the first honest acknowledgment he had made of the affair.
Then he said:
“I thought you would always be there.”
I felt something tighten in my chest.
Not because I wanted him back.
Because he had finally described the central problem of our marriage.
For three years, Aaron treated my loyalty as a permanent resource.
He assumed I would manage the house, organize his life, attend the required family events, and accept whatever attention he had left.
He had never imagined I might decide that wasn't enough.
“I was there,” I said.
“For three years.”
His eyes filled.
“I know.”
Then he asked:
“Is there really no chance for us?”
I took a slow breath.
“No, Aaron.”
He looked away.
I continued.
“I'm not saying you can never become a better person. I'm saying I don't want to spend the next three years waiting to find out whether you'll become a better husband.”
He nodded slowly.
For once, he didn't argue.
The meeting ended with our attorneys outlining the remaining settlement issues.
Later that week, Nathan received another document from Prescott Global's independent investigators.
It contained the final internal review of the earliest complaints about Cole Strategic Advisory.
Olivia had raised concerns about duplicate invoices nine months before my Slack message.
Aaron had received the warning personally.
He instructed her to close the inquiry until after the European acquisition.
Nine months.
He had not simply missed the warning signs.
May you like
He had chosen to ignore them.
And I finally understood that the downfall of Prescott Global's chief executive had begun long before I typed a single word into Slack.
