And my questions were becoming dangerous to the life he had built.
I printed the message.
Then I printed the bank records.
The debt statements.
The credit inquiries.
The spreadsheet.
Everything.
I put them into a folder.
Then I called my attorney.
Not to start a war.
Not to destroy Nathan.
I simply needed to understand where I stood.
What belonged to me.
What belonged to him.
What debts were his.
What debts could affect our household.
And what steps I needed to take to protect myself.
That afternoon, I received another call.
This time it was Nathan.
I answered.
“Hello?”
His voice was quiet.
“Sofia.”
“What?”
“I found something.”
My heart sank.
“What?”
“I found another statement.”
“Where?”
“In the apartment.”
“What statement?”
He hesitated.
“It isn’t mine.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“It has your name on it.”
I sat completely still.
“What kind of statement?”
