Chapter 6 - WHY DEREK NEEDED ME TO BECOME THE LIAR
My attorney’s name was Simone Keller.
She had spent fifteen years doing white-collar investigations before moving into private practice.
Her first advice was boring.
Do not delete anything.
Do not sign anything without review.
Do not access company systems you no longer have authority to access.
Do not secretly move money.
Do not confront Derek about federal issues without a plan.
The last one was difficult.
Simone also explained something that changed my understanding of Derek’s behavior.
“If prosecutors or investigators eventually interview you, credibility matters.”
“I know.”
“Your husband knows too.”
I went still.
The concerned texts.
The affair allegations.
The claims I forgot things.
Simone continued.
“I am not saying every ugly thing he has done is calculated litigation strategy. Abusive people often behave abusively for more than one reason. But if he believes you may contradict him, creating a record that you’re unstable or dishonest benefits him.”
That was the first time someone described the pattern without making me responsible for proving his motive.
Then came the second federal letter.
This one was addressed to me.
Request for voluntary interview.
Through counsel.
No accusation.
No threat.
A request.
I showed Derek because, despite everything, some part of me still thought married people should not hide federal letters.
His face lost all color.
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing.”
“Who contacted them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Olivia?”
“Maybe.”
“Mason?”
I stared.
“What would Mason have to do with medical transport billing?”
Derek didn’t answer.
Then I realized.
He had been using Mason’s name for so long that even unrelated fear flowed through the same channel.
“You really think I’m sleeping with him?”
Derek looked at me.
A strange pause.
Then:
“I think you like having a man think I’m dangerous.”
That was not an answer.
The interview was scheduled for the following month.
Derek started sleeping badly.
Joanne came to our house almost every day.
She brought food.
Asked whether I was “sure talking to federal people was necessary.”
I said:
“They requested it.”
“You could decline.”
“My attorney doesn’t recommend that.”
Joanne looked hurt.
“So now strangers tell you what’s best?”
“No. My lawyer advises me.”
“Your husband is your family.”
That sentence had excused too much already.
Then Joanne asked:
“Are you planning to leave him?”
I stared.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re talking to lawyers.”
“About the federal matter.”
“And Mason?”
There it was again.
I looked at her.
“Did Derek tell you I’m having an affair?”
She hesitated.
The answer was yes.
I left the room.
That night, Derek told me if I “destroyed the company,” eighty employees would lose jobs.
Another familiar strategy.
Make the cost of telling the truth belong to the person who tells it.
I said:
“If the company is clean, records will show that.”
He stared at me.
Then grabbed my wrist.
Not hard.
Not yet.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
I looked down at his hand.
He followed my eyes.
And released me.
May you like
Too late.
The message was clear.
