Chapter 7 #2
“Yeah, sorry. You need something? Becca isn't here.”
She steps forward, pulling out a manila folder. “I know. These are from Becca.”
My stomach drops. For a second, I can’t breathe. I remember what Phi does for a living. Attorney.
“Are these …?” She must read my question on my face.
“No,” she cuts in. “Not divorce papers. A postnuptial agreement.”
I exhale hard, then frown. “A what?”
“It’s like a prenup, only after marriage. It protects each party in case of separation of assets. Common with businesses, investments, and property."
I open the folder. The language is dense, but one section is clearly marked. Becca’s signature beside a note relinquishing all claim to the house.
“She could’ve had a claim to the house,” Phoenix remarks. “Legally, she has a case. I told her that. She insisted on removing herself.”
All she’s asking for is the riverfront lot. The one we were going to use for the cabins. She’s asking for what she earned, her dream, what I stole from her.
“Goddammit,” I mutter, raking a hand through my hair. "What have I done? My wife has one foot out the door and doesn't even want a claim on our house?"
“It’s not my place,” Phoenix says gently, “but I’ve seen a lot of couples walk into my practice. The reasons are always different, but the core issue? It’s the same.”
My eyes flit up to her. “What is it?”
She shrugs. “Security. People need to feel safe. Whether it’s in love, in money, or in the future. If someone feels like they’re not protected, they’ll act. It’s survival.”
“She’s not starving, I didn't bankrupt us! We’ve still got our jobs, an emergency fund, and a roof over our head!" I say as I tug at my hair, pacing my shop.
“I know,” Phoenix says. “But from what she's told me, Becca didn’t grow up with stability. Financial vulnerability is emotional vulnerability for her. You took away control of the one thing she used to keep herself safe. What you did? That’s called financial infidelity, Sam.
If she’d done that to you, you'd be at a lawyer’s office, but with divorce papers, not an extremely fair postnuptial. ”
“I didn’t cheat on my wife. I would never do that to Becca!” I respond adamantly. I exhale before continuing. “What I mean is, I didn’t—there was, is no one else. I love my wife. I couldn't be unfaithful to her.”
Phoenix raises a brow. “But you did lie. You withheld the truth about money you both saved and gave it away without her knowledge or consent. You went behind her back and undermined your shared future. That’s financial infidelity.”
I stiffen at that word again. “I was helping my sister. I thought—”
“You thought she’d always be there. That Becca wouldn’t mind. That it didn’t count as betrayal because it wasn’t about sex.” Phoenix's voice is calm, but firm. “But it was a betrayal. Just with bank accounts instead of bedsheets.”
I sit down and drop my head between my hands, shame seeping in.
Phoenix leans forward. “Look, Sam. This job is crossing some of my professional and personal boundaries. I have always been fond of you, like the big brother I never had. You’re the first person I call when I’m stuck on a project, or I need to borrow a tool."
I smile to myself, thinking of Phoenix in her half-finished duplex, stubborn as hell and refusing to let me take over and help.
Phoenix mutters a quick “Don’t touch it … just tell me” before crouching down and working through the jumble, even after realizing she’d wired the light fixture wrong the first time.
Becca is in the background, laughing under her breath while making us lunch.
Phoenix shoots her a look, but then a quiet “Thanks” slips my way once the light finally flicks on.
Not soft or gushy. I ruffle her hair on the way out, and she swats me off, but she doesn’t argue when I come back the next day to help again.
"But let me ask you this, Sam." Phoenix breaks into my memory with no smile. "Did you and Becca have a financial agreement, a goal you were working toward?”
I know I don't have to answer this rhetorical question, but I do anyway. “Yeah,” I murmur. “We talked about it all the time. Becca constantly shared ways to save money and strategies to be successful."
“Then what you did wasn’t only careless, Sam.
It was a violation of trust. You took her dreams and de-funded them—without her knowledge—into someone else’s.
And not just someone: your sister, a 'big shot' property developer you have a hard-on for, and her best friend. The same best friend who’s spent years pining after you?”
I open my mouth to defend myself, but nothing comes out.
Phoenix continues, a little gentler now.
“Financial infidelity doesn’t get talked about as much because it’s not as flashy.
But it can do as much damage, sometimes worse.
Because it’s not just about money. It’s about partnership.
About making someone feel safe and secure in their life. And you stripped that away from her.”
I nod slowly. “What do I do?” My voice cracks. “I can’t lose her, but the money is already gone."
“Then give her what she needs. Sign them.”
I stare at my name line. My hands shake. Then I pick up the pen. And for the first time in too long, I do what my wife, who never asks me for anything, wants, and sign my name.