Chapter 13 Letting Go
Fiona calls me on a Tuesday morning while I'm processing a batch of permit requests at my desk. I step outside to the employee parking lot to take the call.
"Kirk's attorney has accepted our revised terms," she says. "With minor modifications."
"What modifications?"
"Kirk will reimburse you fifteen thousand dollars from the savings account withdrawals.
That's two thousand less than we demanded but it's a reasonable concession given that some of the early withdrawals could arguably be considered shared expenses.
He'll make the payment in three installments over six months. "
"And the credit cards?"
"He'll assume full responsibility for the balance on the second card.
That's the one with over seven thousand in charges that were entirely his.
On the first card he'll take responsibility for the specific charges we identified as personal.
The restaurant bills. The hotel stays. The jewelry store purchases.
The remaining balance on that card will be split based on the shared-expense ratio we calculated. "
"What does that mean for me?"
"It means your out-of-pocket exposure on the credit cards drops to approximately eight hundred dollars. That's your legitimate share of the groceries and gas and other household charges that were genuinely shared."
Eight hundred dollars. Down from over eleven thousand. I lean against the brick wall of City Hall and close my eyes.
"Brook? Are you there?"
"I'm here. That's much better than I expected."
"It's a fair outcome. Not perfect but fair.
Kirk's attorney advised him to cooperate because the documentation you provided was overwhelming.
The statements. The withdrawal records. The timeline.
They knew that if this went to mediation a third party would see exactly what happened and the result would likely be worse for Kirk than what we're offering. "
"So it's over?"
"Almost. There are two more steps. First we need to close the joint savings account.
I'll handle the paperwork for that. You'll receive the remaining balance plus the first installment of the reimbursement within thirty days.
Second we need to remove Kirk's name from the first credit card and remove your name from the second.
Once that's done you'll have no remaining financial connections to Kirk Reed. "
No remaining financial connections. The phrase settles into me with a weight that's part relief and part something else.
Finality. This is actually ending. The financial entanglement that took nine years to build is being dismantled in three months of careful organized work by a lawyer who charges two hundred dollars an hour and earns every cent of it.
"Thank you, Fiona. For everything."
"You're welcome. I want to mention one more thing.
During the negotiation Kirk's attorney revealed that Kirk has accumulated additional personal debt beyond the shared credit cards.
A car loan that's behind on payments. A personal credit card I wasn't previously aware of with a significant balance.
None of that is your responsibility and none of it affects our settlement.
But I mention it because it paints a fuller picture of Kirk's financial behavior. "
"How much additional debt?"
"Based on what his attorney disclosed he's in the range of thirty to forty thousand dollars total across all obligations."
Thirty to forty thousand dollars. Kirk always presented himself as financially responsible.
He wore nice clothes. He drove a newer truck.
He carried himself with confidence and acted as though he had his life together.
But behind all of it was debt. Debt he was hiding from me the same way he was hiding the affair.
"I had no idea," I say.
"Most people in your position don't. Partners who are dishonest about one thing tend to be dishonest about many things. The financial deception and the personal deception usually go hand in hand."
"Is he going to be okay? Financially I mean."
There's a brief pause. "Brook. I appreciate your concern for him. It speaks well of you. But Kirk's financial situation is his responsibility. Your job is to protect yourself. His job is to deal with the consequences of his choices. Those two things are separate."
She's right. I know she's right. But there's still a part of me that worries about him.
Not the romantic part. That's gone. Just the human part.
The part that spent nine years caring about someone and can't turn it off completely just because the relationship ended.
I imagine that will fade with time. Everything else has.
"I'll send you the settlement agreement to review and sign. Take your time reading it. Call me if you have questions."
I hang up and stand in the parking lot for a few minutes.
The morning is cool and bright. Across the street the County Archives building sits quiet and solid.
Ross is inside working. I can see the lights on through the narrow windows.
I want to walk across the street and tell him what just happened but I also want to sit with it for a moment. Just me. Before I share it with anyone.
I go back inside and tell Roger I'm taking an early lunch. He waves me off without looking up from his files. I walk to Amanda's desk in the lobby.
"Fiona called," I say. "Kirk accepted the terms."
Amanda stands up from her desk. She doesn't say anything at first. She just looks at me with an expression that I've seen on her face a handful of times in the twenty years I've known her. The expression that means she's too proud to speak and too emotional to pretend otherwise.
Then she walks around the desk and hugs me. Right there in the lobby of Wildhorse City Hall. In front of the reception counter and the filing cabinets and the framed photo of the mayor on the wall.
"You did it," she says quietly.
"Fiona did it."
"Fiona handled the legal work. You did the hard part.
You walked away. You gathered the evidence.
You stayed strong when he tried to talk you out of it.
You protected yourself when every instinct you had was telling you to forgive him because that's what you've always done. That was all you, Brook."
She steps back and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm buying you dinner tonight. Don't argue."
"I wasn't going to argue."
"Good. Because it's already decided."
I spend the rest of the day working with a focus and energy that I haven't felt in a long time.
The permit requests are processed quickly.
The archive inventory is updated. I review the settlement agreement that Fiona emails over and read every page carefully.
The terms are clear and fair and exactly what Fiona described on the phone.
Kirk will pay. The accounts will be separated. The ties will be cut.
I sign the agreement and scan it and email it back to Fiona before five o'clock.
That evening Amanda takes me to Sullivan's. The same restaurant where Ross took me on our first real date. Amanda orders a bottle of champagne because she insists that closing a financial chapter on a nine-year relationship deserves celebration and she's not wrong.
"To fresh starts," she says and raises her glass.
"To fresh starts."
"And to Fiona Grant. That woman is a warrior."
"She really is. I don't think Kirk knew what hit him."
"Good. He deserved to not know what hit him. For once in his life someone held him accountable and he couldn't charm his way out of it."
We eat dinner and I tell Amanda everything about the settlement. The fifteen thousand in reimbursement. The credit card separation. The discovery of Kirk's additional personal debt. Amanda listens to all of it with the focused attention she gives to information she intends to remember forever.
"Thirty to forty thousand in total debt," she repeats. "And he was telling you he couldn't afford to save more than five hundred a month for your future together."
"He wasn't even contributing five hundred most months. I checked the statements. Some months he put in nothing."
"Brook. I need you to hear me say this and I need you to really hear it.
You are one of the most generous and loyal people I have ever known.
And Kirk took advantage of that generosity for nine years.
What you did by walking away and protecting yourself wasn't selfish.
It was the most rational thing you've ever done. "
"I know."
"Do you? Because sometimes I see you get that look on your face. The look that says you're wondering if you were too harsh or too demanding or too unwilling to forgive. And I need you to stop that right now. You were none of those things. You were exactly as strong as you needed to be."
I take a sip of champagne and look at my best friend across the table.
Amanda Owens. Funny and loud and fiercely protective and loyal to a fault.
She has been in my corner since the seventh grade.
Through every bad decision and every broken heart and every moment of self-doubt she has been right there telling me I deserve better.
For nine years I didn't listen. Now I do.
"Thank you, Amanda. For being my person."
"Always. Now tell me about Ross. How's that going?"
"It's going well. Really well actually."
"Define really well."
"He's kind and patient and he never makes me feel like I'm too much or not enough.
He shows up when he says he's going to show up.
He remembers things I tell him. He asks questions because he wants to know the answers not because he's making conversation.
And his father is one of the most genuine people I've ever met. "
"You've met his father?"
"Last Sunday. We spent the afternoon in his workshop."
Amanda sets her champagne glass down and puts both hands on the table. "Brook Walker. You met his father. In his workshop. And you're just now telling me this?"
"It wasn't a big dramatic thing. It was just a Sunday afternoon."