Chapter 4 - Playing the Broken Mother
For two weeks after the funeral, I became a ghost.
I stopped washing my hair. I wore the same oversized grey sweater every day. I made sure to be seen by Daniel's friends and our household staff staring blankly out of windows, clutching Emma's silver butterfly hair clip and weeping uncontrollably.
I let the house fall into disarray. I ignored calls from my company's board of directors, letting rumors swirl that I was having a complete mental breakdown.
Daniel thrived on it.
He moved Vanessa into a luxury apartment downtown, funded by my company's dividends. He began attending board meetings in my place, acting as the tragic, strong husband holding the pieces together while his wife lost her mind.
Finally, when I knew his ego was at its absolute peak, I sent him a trembling, tear-stained handwritten letter.
Daniel, I wrote. I can't fight anymore. The guilt is eating me alive. You were right at the funeral. I shouldn't have left them. I want to give you full control of the company, and I will sign over my rights to the insurance payout. I just want to disappear.
I requested a final meeting to sign the legal transfer documents.
But I insisted on one condition.
Meet me at the lake house, I wrote. I need to say goodbye to them there. Just you, me, and your lawyer if you want. Bring the papers at 8:00 PM on Friday.
When the response came back, it was a simple text from Daniel: I'll be there. Don't do anything stupid before signing.
May you like
He couldn't resist. The promise of total control, the billions from my company, and the insurance millions were dangling right in front of him. He thought he had completely broken me.
He was walking straight into the slaughterhouse, believing he was the butcher.
