After he left by car, I opened my laptop in the empty living room and started looking at all the documents related to the purchase of the property, including the title deed, closing documents, and bank transfer confirmations.
My name was on every page.
However, as I continued to review the financial documents, I noticed something deeply disturbing.
About a week before the closing date, Patrick had persuaded me to simplify our finances by giving him limited access to a joint account that we intended to use for household expenses, and since I had complete confidence in him, I accepted without hesitation.
I then discovered a series of large withdrawals and transfers that had nothing to do with buying the house.
Ten thousand dollars had been transferred in a single day.
Twenty-five thousand a day.
Each transaction was accompanied by a simple note entitled "family support".
My heart was pounding when I called the bank to ask them to confirm what I was seeing on my screen, and the representative calmly explained that Patrick had indeed transferred money from the account using the authorization I had given him.
Instead of yelling or confronting him immediately, I forced myself to stay calm and began to carefully plan my next action.
At four seventeen, sharp, a big black SUV pulled up in the driveway behind Patrick's car, and I watched it from inside out with the assurance of someone coming back to claim property that belongs to them.
Deborah followed him, carrying a fancy purse, while Harold adjusted his golf cap, and Melissa dragged two huge suitcases behind her casting curious glances around her.
They climbed the steps and Patrick dialed the code for the smart lock.
The door rang but remained firmly locked.
He tried again, looking frustrated, and got the same result.
Deborah seemed confused and said, "Patrick, what's going on?"
I opened the door slowly from the inside and stood there calmly.
Behind me, the entrance hall was completely empty, with no furniture or decoration, and on the wall next to the entrance, I had taped a simple envelope with Patrick's name written on it in large black letters.
The four of them gaped as Patrick's face faded.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked. "Why is the house empty?"
I kept a calm voice as I answered, "If anyone is going to come in, they have to take off their shoes first."
Deborah glanced over her shoulder at me and said suspiciously, "Where is the furniture that Patrick said you had already bought?"
Melissa leaned to the side to try to see further inside the house before muttering, "Is that a bad joke?"
Patrick's patience evaporated when he cried out, "Natalie, stop these games and let us in!"
Instead of moving, I pointed to the envelope and said, "Read it."
He tore it from the wall and impatiently opened it.
Inside, he found three documents.
The first document was a copy of the deed of ownership and the closing statement showing only my name as the legal owner.
The second document listed all the suspicious bank transfers he had made, highlighted and totaled in red ink.
