The Truth Surfaces
Matt’s face shifted from panic to dread.
We’d been married nearly two decades. Our son was at Columbia on a partial scholarship — Matt had nothing to do with it. While he was chasing younger women, I was building my company to over 300 employees.
“Matt owns nothing,” I said evenly. “Not this house, not the cars, not even the bed you two were just in. Every single thing here is mine.”
Brittany’s eyes widened. “Wait — he told me everything was his. That it was all in his name.”
I chuckled. “He probably forgot to mention the prenup. It says he only leaves with what he came in with. Which, for the record, was a leased Honda Civic and about $3,000 in student loans.”
Matt went pale — like milk left out too long. His entire illusion collapsed.
