Chapter 14 - THE LAST SIGNATURE SABRINA ASKED FOR
The divorce settlement conference took place eighteen months after New Year’s Eve.
Wyatt walked without the cane most days.
Stairs still hurt.
His right knee would probably always remind him when rain was coming.
Sabrina sat across the table.
Most issues were settled.
Home equity.
Personal accounts.
Her legitimate compensation for consulting work.
Wyatt’s Mercer shares remained his subject to the marital-property settlement negotiated by counsel.
No dramatic forfeiture.
No one took everything.
One issue remained.
The Westchester house.
Sabrina wanted it sold.
Wyatt did too.
The basement made staying impossible.
The final sale authorization required both signatures.
The irony was not lost on either of them.
The lawyer slid the papers forward.
Sabrina picked up her pen.
Then stopped.
For the first time, she looked directly at Wyatt.
“I’m sorry.”
He said nothing.
“Not for the deal.”
That surprised him.
“I still think Mercer needed change.”
“It did.”
She swallowed.
“I’m sorry I decided your refusal was a problem to solve.”
Wyatt looked at her.
That was closer.
“And the basement?”
Sabrina’s face tightened.
“I was afraid.”
“So was I.”
“I thought everything I built was disappearing.”
“You mean Redfern.”
“My career. Mark. The investors. Our marriage. All of it.”
Wyatt nodded.
Then she said:
“I told myself if you signed, I would unlock the chain and we could fix everything afterward.”
Wyatt stared at her.
“That’s exactly why I can never trust you again.”
Sabrina cried quietly.
Wyatt did not comfort her.
He also did not punish her with cruelty.
He signed the house sale authorization.
Then pushed the papers across.
“My signature.”
She looked down.
“Given freely.”
Sabrina closed her eyes.
Then signed hers.
It was the last document they ever executed together.
The house sold two months later.
Wyatt never returned to the basement.
Abraham did once, before closing, to collect a box of Wyatt’s childhood photographs from storage.
He stood on the same stairs where he had recorded Sabrina.
For a moment he considered taking the length of chain police had eventually released after the case.
Wyatt had already told him no.
“Throw it away.”
May you like
So Abraham did.
Not every terrible thing needed to become an heirloom.
