My attorney nodded.
“But that may have been intentional.”
That stopped me.
“What do you mean?”
He removed the paperwork Kenneth had been pressuring me to sign.
“These documents weren’t ordinary prenuptial or marital agreements.”
I recognized them immediately.
Kenneth had presented them weeks earlier.
He said they were necessary because we were combining households.
“What were they?”
“Financial authorizations.”
My mouth went dry.
“Authorizing what?”
“Access to several accounts and permission to act regarding certain assets.”
My eyes moved toward Kenneth.
“The house.”
“Potentially.”
“And my savings?”
“Yes.”
The truth hit me.
Kenneth didn’t need a legal marriage.
He needed me to believe there was one.
The wedding was theater.
The paperwork was the real trap.
I looked toward my children.
And suddenly remembered something.
Kenneth had repeatedly asked about the twins’ inheritance.
Their mother—my sister—had left them money.
Not enormous wealth.
But enough for college and a secure beginning in adulthood.
