Preston Finally Read the Documents
My phone began vibrating before boarding. I ignored the first call. Then the second. Then the third. Finally, a message appeared.
PRESTON: Call me. Now.
A minute later another followed.
PRESTON: The condo management office says I have 30 days to sign a new lease. What did you do?
I smiled.
Another message arrived.
PRESTON: They say the vehicle has to be returned next month.
Then:
PRESTON: Lena, answer your phone.
I did not.
The divorce agreement had given Preston exactly what he demanded. I had surrendered my occupancy rights to the condo. I had agreed not to contest his continued use of the vehicle. But nowhere did the agreement say he owned either asset.
He had assumed that. His attorney had asked for ownership documents twice. Preston had brushed the request aside, insisting he knew what belonged to him.
Now he was finally learning.
My phone rang again. This time I answered.
“What?” he demanded. “What have you done?”
“Nothing.”
“The condo isn’t mine?”
“No.”
“The car?”
“Also no.”
There was silence. Then his voice lowered.
“You lied to me.”
“You never asked.”
He breathed heavily. “How rich are you?”
I looked through the terminal windows at the bright afternoon sky. “That question stopped mattering to you the moment you decided my value depended on what you thought I needed from you.”
He had no answer.
