Chapter 3
I could not sleep a single wink that night. My mother was resting peacefully in the small bedroom of the modest two-bedroom apartment we had just managed to rent.
I sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor of the living room, completely surrounded by cardboard boxes, bank statements, and legal files. For the first time in my life, I was looking at my marriage not as a devoted wife, but as an impartial investigator examining evidence of a crime.
Everything suddenly made perfect sense. Three months prior, Mom had sold a rural plot of land that belonged to my late father. Brandon knew about the sale, even though he never found out the exact balance in her private bank account.
At first, he acted warm and helpful, offering unsolicited investment advice. But when Mom repeatedly refused to hand over her money, his friendly facade completely disintegrated.
Mom had revealed to me that a week before the assault, Brandon had directly demanded a sixty-thousand-dollar loan from her to support his brother’s failing business venture. When she politely declined, he exploded, accusing her of being ungrateful for his hospitality.
I closed my eyes in disgust as I recalled how Brandon always referred to our home as his apartment, even though I had paid more than half of the mortgage, covered major renovations, and purchased all the furniture with my own funds.
When Mom refused to give him her money, he orchestrated the missing cash scheme to ruin her character. He truly believed I would feel utterly humiliated by my mother’s actions, kick her out of the home, and fall back into his controlling arms.
I looked up at Claire and said, “He genuinely thought I was going to choose him over my own mother.”
Claire nodded slowly and said, “Because for seven years, you always put his needs above everyone else’s.”
Her words hit hard because they were completely true. I had spent years playing the mediator, smoothing over his aggressive outbursts, and making excuses for his selfish behavior.
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He expected me to take Mom to a hotel, return home crying, apologize for overreacting, and pretend nothing happened. But instead of playing his game, I filed for divorce.
Brandon was served with the formal court papers on a Tuesday afternoon. He called my mobile phone twenty minutes later, but I ignored the ringing.
