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Allowance, Lies, and a Secret Ex Novel Cover

Allowance, Lies, and a Secret Ex

My husband, Jerrold, rushed out for an emergency IT call, leaving his phone behind. A bank alert flashed across the screen: a $2,500 mortgage payment to his ex-wife, Jackie Reid. My heart sank. For five years, he' d told me his take-home pay was only $4,000 a month, and I struggled to cover our family' s expenses on the meager $1,200 allowance he gave me. When I confronted him, he stammered excuses, and his parents, who knew all along, defended his 'obligation' to his past. But the lies ran deeper. I soon discovered his real income was over double what he claimed, and our entire five-year marriage was built on a foundation of deceit to pay for his guilt over cheating on his first wife. He had me clipping coupons and telling our son, Leo, 'no' to simple treats, all while he secretly funneled $150,000 of our money to his ex. He wasn't just lying; he was stealing our future. That's when I stopped crying and started collecting evidence. I hired a lawyer and walked into that courtroom ready to take back every penny he stole from me and our son.
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Chapter 4

Karly Chandler POV:

I walked back into the house later that night, the silence heavy and suffocating. Jerrold was sitting on the couch, his parents flanking him like silent, grim statues. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the forced cheerfulness he' d tried to project earlier. He looked up, his eyes bloodshot, a pathetic attempt at a concerned expression.

He rose as I entered, a half-hearted gesture of welcome. His parents remained seated, their faces unreadable, though I could feel their judgment in the air.

I ignored him, walking straight to the kitchen. I didn't want to engage in any superficial pleasantries. Not now. Not ever again.

"Karly," Jerrold began, his voice soft, almost pleading. "Can we talk? Just us?"

I turned, leaning against the kitchen counter, my arms crossed. "No," I said, my voice cold and firm. "We've tried that. It never works. You're incapable of telling the truth." I looked at his parents. "I think it's time for all of us to have a frank discussion about your son's history of deception. And your role in it."

Jerrold sighed, a sound of weary resignation. He ran a hand through his hair. "Please, Karly. Sit down."

I didn't move. "I'll stand. You sit. And you," I gestured to his parents, "can listen. Carefully."

Jerrold slumped back onto the couch, his posture defeated. His parents exchanged a glance, their faces tightening. He was clearly trying to muster some strength, but his usual confident facade was completely gone.

"I need to understand, Jerrold," I began, my voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil inside. "From the beginning. The truth, this time. Not the convenient version. Start with Jackie. How did you two even get together?"

He took a deep breath, avoiding my eyes, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere above my head. "Jackie and I met in college. We were young. Fell in love, got married shortly after graduation." He paused, then continued, "We bought a house together, about eight years ago."

"And the ownership structure of that house?" I pressed, cutting to the chase. "Was it a joint purchase, or did you put in a significant amount of the down payment, given Jackie's 'need for security'?"

He flinched. "Jackie... she had some financial struggles back then. She wanted security. So I put down most of the down payment. It felt right at the time."

I remained silent, letting his words hang in the air. His parents shifted uncomfortably. His admission confirmed Diana's findings, deepening the wound. He had invested heavily in Jackie's future, a future that excluded me.

"Go on," I prompted, my voice devoid of emotion. "What happened next?"

"We had Sam," he continued, his voice softer, "and things got tough. The pressure of a new baby, working long hours... I wasn't there for her. I was young, immature." He sighed again, a performance of regret. "I started to pull away. Emotionally."

"In what way did you pull away, Jerrold?" I asked, my voice cold. "Tell me the whole story."

He hesitated, then glanced at his parents. Mr. Brown cleared his throat. "Jerrold had a friend, a colleague. He confided in her during a rough patch."

My eyes snapped to Jerrold. "A friend? A colleague? Was this the 'emotional relationship' you mentioned earlier? The one that wasn't 'physical'?"

He nodded, not meeting my gaze. "Yes. We... we became very close. She understood me."

"So, you cheated on Jackie," I stated, the words like ice. "Emotionally. While she was a new mother, struggling, and you were her husband."

He recoiled. "It wasn't cheating! Not in the way you mean. We never... physically crossed a line."

"Cheating is cheating, Jerrold," I retorted, disgusted. "Emotional intimacy with another person, while married, is a betrayal. A deep, fundamental betrayal. And it led to your divorce, didn't it? Not Jackie 'falling out of love' or 'wanting out'."

He nodded slowly, a ghost of a confession. "I... I told Jackie I wanted out. I initiated the divorce."

My jaw dropped. He had initiated it. All this time, he had told me she wanted out. "She didn't want the divorce, did she?" I asked, a bitter clarity dawning. "She fought you. She wanted to save the marriage."

"She did, at first," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "But I was... I was determined. So, I offered her a deal. I told her I would sign the house over to her completely, and I would continue to pay the mortgage until it was paid off, as long as she agreed to the divorce."

My eyes closed, a wave of nausea washing over me. The depth of his manipulation, his calculated cruelty, was breathtaking. He had bought his freedom, his new life with me, at the expense of his first wife's financial independence, and then at the expense of his second wife's financial stability.

I opened my eyes, staring at him with a mixture of contempt and disbelief. "You are a deceiver, Jerrold. A systematic, heartless deceiver."

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on his hands.

"You deceived Jackie about your commitment. You deceived her about your affair. You deceived her into taking a raw deal by preying on her fear and vulnerability, and then you deceived me about the reasons for your divorce. And for five years, you deceived me about your income and your ongoing financial support to her." My voice was rising, my hands clenched into fists. "You are a professional liar, Jerrold. It is who you are."

"I never meant to deceive you, Karly," he said, his voice weak. "I only wanted to protect you from the messy past."

"Protect me?" I scoffed. "You starved me financially! You made me take out a loan for a car repair! You let Leo go without things he needed, things we could have afforded, all while you were sending $2,500 a month to a house you no longer lived in, a house that wasn't even truly for your son, but for your ex-wife's security!"

He remained silent, his face pale. His mother put a hand on his arm, a gesture of comfort that made my blood boil.

"How much longer, Jerrold?" I asked, my voice cutting through the tension. "How much longer was this 'obligation' supposed to last?"

He looked up, meeting my eyes, his face etched with something that looked like shame. "Another... ten years."

Ten years. My mind reeled. Another $300,000. On top of the $150,000 already gone. Half a million dollars, squandered on a past he claimed he wanted to escape.

"So, that's another $300,000 you planned to funnel away from our family," I stated, my voice dangerously calm. "A total of $450,000, not including the initial down payment, all for a house that Jackie Reid owns, a house you don't even live in. A house that has nothing to do with Sam's well-being, because if it did, you'd be living there, actively co-parenting."

"It's for Sam!" he insisted, his voice cracking. "For his home, his stability."

"No, Jerrold," I countered, my voice sharp. "The house is in Jackie's name. It's her asset. If it was for Sam, you'd have ensured it was a trust, or that you had some ownership stake. This is for Jackie. And for your guilt. Do you even care about Leo's stability? About our home? About the future of the family you claimed to build with me?"

He flinched, his eyes darting to his parents, then back to me. His shoulders were shaking.

"I want the $150,000 returned to our joint marital assets, Jerrold," I stated, my voice clear and unwavering. "Every single penny you unlawfully diverted from our community property."

He stared at me, his mouth agape. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want my half of that money back," I clarified, my voice rising. "$75,000. And I'm saying this marriage is over. I'm filing for divorce."

The words hung in the air, a final, definitive pronouncement. His parents gasped, his mother clutching her chest. Jerrold' s face went white, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. But I felt no regret. Only a chilling sense of liberation. The truth, finally out, had set me free.

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