“You’re going to regret this, Nora,” Julian hissed bitterly as he reached the front door. “You have no income. You’re on maternity leave. You can’t afford this house or this lifestyle without me.”
“Check the folder on the table, Julian,” I replied smoothly, holding sleeping Maya in my arms. “The deed to this house was bought using my premarital trust fund. Your name was never on the title. And as of 4:00 PM today, the locks have been changed.”
Julian stared at me, realization dawning on him like a bucket of ice water. He had assumed that because I was quiet, tired, and holding a newborn, I was helpless. He had forgotten that before I took maternity leave, I was a senior financial analyst for a corporate firm.
I knew how to audit a snake.
He slammed the door as he left, disappearing into the chilly autumn night.
