Chapter 6: The Woman He Chose Instead
I stared at the message for a long moment.
Then I typed back: *How did you get this number?*
The reply came quickly.
*Grant gave it to me.
He said I should reach out if I wanted to explain things.
I'm sorry — I know this is strange.
I just think you deserve to hear it from me directly.*
I read it twice.
Then I called Renata.
"Grant gave Dana my number and told her to contact me."
A pause.
"Why would he do that?"
"I don't know yet.
But I'm going to find out." I looked at Eleanor in the bassinet.
"I'm going to meet her."
"Tessa—"
"I want to hear what she says.
In person.
Where I can watch her face."
Another pause.
"I'm coming with you."
"You don't have to."
"I'm coming with you," Renata repeated, in the tone she used when a decision had already been made.
We met Dana Reeves the next afternoon at a coffee shop two miles from the hospital.
She was already there when we arrived — a slim woman with careful posture and the look of someone who had rehearsed this moment several times and was hoping the rehearsal would hold.
She stood when she saw me.
"Tessa.
Thank you for coming."
I sat down across from her.
Renata took the chair to my left and said nothing.
Dana glanced at her once and then focused on me.
"I didn't know about you," Dana said.
"Not at first.
He told me he was separated.
That the marriage had been over for more than a year."
"It hadn't been."
"I know that now." Her hands were around her coffee cup.
"I found out in January.
I saw a photo on his phone — you, visibly pregnant, and him with his arm around you at what looked like a family dinner.
I asked him directly.
He said it was complicated.
That you two had an arrangement."
"We had a marriage."
"Yes." She looked down.
"I ended it then.
In January.
I told him I wouldn't be part of something like that."
I watched her face.
She wasn't performing.
The discomfort was real.
"Then why was your name still on that real estate listing two days ago?"
She looked up.
"What listing?"
"A house.
Saved search.
His name and yours together."
Something shifted in her expression — confusion first, then something harder.
"I never agreed to any house.
We looked at one property in November, before I knew the truth.
I never signed anything.
I never gave him permission to use my name."
Renata and I exchanged a glance.
"He's been telling people," I said carefully, "that he has access to a significant inheritance.
He's been using that to support financial commitments he's made."
Dana set her cup down.
"How significant?"
"Significant."
She was quiet.
Then: "He asked me, in December, if I would be willing to co-sign a loan.
He said it was a bridge — that money was coming and he just needed to cover a short gap.
I said no.
I thought that was the end of it."
"Did he find someone else to sign?"
"I don't know." She looked at me steadily.
"Tessa, I came here because Grant told me you were trying to take everything from him.
That you were using the pregnancy to trap him and that you'd hidden assets to use against him in a divorce."
The coffee shop was quiet around us.
"He told you I was hiding assets," I said.
"Yes."
"And you believed him enough to contact me."
"I believed him enough to want to hear your side." She paused.
"I'm a paralegal.
I've worked in family law for six years.
When someone tells me their spouse is hiding assets, I know what that usually means."
"What does it usually mean?"
"It usually means they're the one doing it."
I looked at her for a long moment.
"Renata," I said, "would you give us a few minutes?"
Renata stood without argument and moved to the counter to order something she didn't need.
I turned back to Dana.
"I'm going to ask you something directly."
"Okay."
"Would you be willing to write down everything he told you — about the inheritance, the loan request, the things he said about me — and sign it?"
She didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I spent four months believing I was in a relationship with someone who was honest with me.
And everything you've just told me confirms that nothing about him was honest." She met my eyes.
"And because if he used my name on a property document without my consent, I want that on record."
I nodded slowly.
"I'll have my attorney contact you."
"That's fine." She picked up her cup.
"For what it's worth — I'm sorry.
I know that doesn't fix anything."
"It doesn't," I said.
"But I believe you."
On the way back to the car, Renata fell into step beside me.
"She's going to be useful," she said quietly.
"I know."
"Grant made a mistake sending her to you."
"He thought she'd rattle me." I unlocked the car.
"He didn't realize she'd tell me the truth."
Renata got in.
"What's the next move?"
I pulled out my phone and dialed Patricia.
She answered on the first ring.
"Tessa."
"Patricia, I need you to look into something.
Grant may have used a third party's name on a property document without consent.
And there may be a loan application somewhere with misrepresented collateral."
A short silence.
"How solid is your source?"
"Solid enough to sign a statement."
"Send her to me." Patricia's voice was crisp.
"And Tessa — the review closed this morning.
The trust is fully yours as of today."
I sat with that for a moment.
"All of it?" I said.
"Every cent.
Nineteen point eight million dollars, clear title, your name only."
I looked through the windshield at the ordinary street in front of me.
A woman walking a dog.
A kid on a bicycle.
The world continuing at its usual pace, indifferent to the fact that everything had just shifted.
"Thank you, Patricia."
May you like
"Don't thank me yet," she said.
"Thank me when we're done with your husband."
