“Of course,” I replied.
On Friday evening, Mark entered the kitchen carrying pastries.
“Laura, let’s be reasonable.”
He placed a document in front of me.
“Just sign this routine tax form so we can keep the business moving.”
I lifted the first page.
Hidden underneath was an authorization offering our home as collateral for a commercial line of credit.
“No.”
His pleasant expression vanished instantly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s for the company.”
“Then show me the vendor contract, the detailed ledger, and exactly where the money will be deposited.”
His face turned red.
“You always have to control everything!”
“Half this house belongs to me. Without my signature, no bank can touch it.”
He slammed his hand onto the counter.
“Then you can sign divorce papers Monday! I’ll give you a small settlement, and you can leave!”
I looked straight at him.
“With what money, Mark?”
