Chapter 8 - The Complaint She Refused to Withdraw
Friday morning, Natalie signed the bank’s formal fraud affidavit.
Once submitted, it could not be casually undone because Chris became angry.
She confirmed in writing that she had not authorized the $38,000 transfer.
Had not signed the form.
Had not given anyone permission to sign for her.
Her attorney also sent Chris a preservation notice instructing him not to destroy relevant financial records.
By noon, Chris was outside Natalie’s apartment building.
She did not let him upstairs.
They spoke in the lobby with six feet between them.
“You signed it,” he said.
“I didn’t.”
“You told me years ago what’s mine is yours.”
“That’s not authorization to forge my name.”
His jaw worked.
“You know what happens if the bank claws that money back?”
“No.”
“Mom could lose the townhouse.”
Natalie looked at him.
“And whose decision created that?”
“You think this is simple because you’ve always had a paycheck every other Friday.”
There was the wound beneath his arrogance.
Chris had built a company people could see.
Trucks with his name on them.
Crews wearing his logo.
Neighbors who called him successful.
Natalie’s job was quieter.
Reliable.
Insured.
Boring enough that Chris had mocked it until he needed the money it produced.
“You could’ve told me the business was failing,” she said.
“I wasn’t failing.”
“You were stealing.”
Chris stepped closer, then stopped himself.
“Withdraw the complaint.”
“No.”
“For once in your life, think about somebody besides yourself.”
Natalie almost laughed.
Instead she said, “That sentence used to work on me.”
She walked toward the elevator.
Behind her, Chris spoke more softly.
“Mom won’t survive losing that house.”
Natalie turned.
“You keep saying what everyone else will lose.”
Chris stared at her.
“What do you lose if I don’t withdraw it?”
He didn’t answer.
The elevator doors opened.
Natalie stepped inside.
Before they closed, she saw something she had never seen on her husband’s face during any argument.
May you like
Not rage.
Panic.
