Chapter 5
I stared at the photograph until my vision blurred.
Daniel.
My husband.
Standing beside another woman.
Wearing the same confident smile he used whenever he wanted me to believe everything was fine.
Simone's engagement ring glittered beneath the living room lights.
I recognized it immediately.
Not because I had seen it before.
Because I remembered the charge.
Eleven thousand eight hundred dollars.
Six months earlier, Daniel told me he needed money to replace equipment for his consulting business.
I transferred him twelve thousand dollars.
He thanked me.
He kissed my forehead.
He promised he would repay me when his next contract cleared.
Now I understood what the money had purchased.
A diamond ring for another woman.
I felt something inside me break.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
It was quieter than that.
A final piece of hope simply disappeared.
Tasha watched me carefully.
"Nia?"
I handed her the phone.
She looked at the photograph.
Then she whispered, "Oh my God."
I nodded.
"He used my money."
Her eyes filled with anger.
"Are you sure?"
I opened the bank statement.
The dates matched.
The amount matched.
And the jeweler's name appeared on a transaction record Rachel had already requested.
I took a screenshot and sent everything to my attorney.
Then I responded to Simone.
I need to understand what Daniel told you. Can we speak tomorrow with my attorney present?
She answered within minutes.
Yes. I want the truth, too.
The next morning, Simone arrived at Rachel's office.
She was beautiful.
Not in a way that made me jealous.
In a way that made me realize Daniel had chosen another person who wanted to believe him.
She wore a simple cream blouse and carried a folder against her chest.
Her eyes were red.
When she saw me, she stopped.
"Nia?"
I nodded.
She looked ashamed.
"I'm sorry."
I didn't know what to say.
Part of me wanted to hate her.
Part of me wanted to demand how she could have lived in a house connected to my marriage.
But I remembered her message.
She claimed Daniel had deceived her, too.
I needed to hear her story.
We sat across from each other.
Rachel explained that we should stick to facts and documents.
Simone nodded.
Then she began.
"I met Daniel almost two years ago at a business conference."
My stomach tightened.
Two years.
For two years, my husband had been creating another life.
"He told me he was divorced," Simone continued.
I closed my eyes.
"He said his previous marriage had ended because his wife was controlling."
I laughed once.
A bitter sound.
Simone looked down.
"He told me you demanded all his money and refused to support his business."
Tasha, who had accompanied me, muttered something under her breath.
Rachel gently reminded us to let Simone finish.
"He said he was rebuilding financially."
I nodded slowly.
That part was almost funny.
Daniel was rebuilding financially because he had spent years draining my accounts.
Simone continued.
"Last year, he proposed."
She removed the diamond ring and placed it on the table.
"I thought we were going to get married this summer."
I stared at the ring.
"Did he tell you who owned the Sandy Springs house?"
She nodded.
"He said he bought it through his company."
"Did he mention my name?"
"No."
I looked at Rachel.
She was taking notes.
Simone opened her folder.
Inside were emails, property documents, and messages from Daniel.
He had told Simone the house was part of his business portfolio.
He had promised to transfer ownership into both their names after the wedding.
He had also asked her to keep their relationship private because of a supposed legal dispute with his former wife.
I felt sick.
Every lie had been tailored to the person hearing it.
To his family, Daniel was a generous provider.
To me, he was a struggling entrepreneur.
To Simone, he was a successful divorced businessman.
He had created three different versions of himself.
And all three depended on somebody else believing him.
Simone wiped her eyes.
"I found out about you when I saw a notice from the lender."
Rachel leaned forward.
"What notice?"
Simone handed her a copy.
It was a letter concerning the business loan.
My name appeared in the borrower information.
Simone had searched for me online.
She found photographs of Daniel and me together.
Recent photographs.
Not old wedding pictures.
She had called him immediately.
He told her we were separated but hadn't completed the divorce paperwork.
Then she saw his family photographs from a dinner posted that same week.
That was when she realized something was wrong.
"I didn't know," she whispered.
I looked at her.
For a moment, I saw myself.
A woman who had trusted Daniel.
A woman who had accepted his explanations.
A woman who had believed love meant giving someone the benefit of the doubt.
I took a slow breath.
"I believe you."
Simone began crying.
"I'm so sorry."
I shook my head.
"You didn't forge my signature."
She looked at me.
"You didn't steal from me. You didn't make those promises to my face."
Her shoulders trembled.
Rachel allowed us a moment.
Then she asked Simone several questions about the house and financial transfers.
Simone explained that Daniel had asked her to pay certain household expenses while he handled the mortgage.
She had also contributed twenty thousand dollars toward renovations.
She believed the money was going into a property they would eventually own together.
Rachel looked concerned.
"Do you have records?"
Simone nodded.
"Every transfer."
I stared at her.
Daniel hadn't only taken from me.
He had taken from Simone, too.
Then Rachel discovered something important.
One of the emails Daniel sent Simone contained a business plan.
The plan listed several investors.
Patricia Bennett appeared as an adviser.
And another name appeared under projected family funding.
Nia Bennett.
My stomach dropped.
Daniel had planned to use my income to finance a house for his fiancée.
I stared at the document.
Then I noticed a second page.
It contained a projected refinancing schedule.
Our marital home was listed as a potential source of additional funds.
I felt cold.
If the loan application had been approved, Daniel might have placed our home at risk to support the house where he lived with another woman.
Simone covered her mouth.
"He told me he was using business profits."
I shook my head.
"He was using us."
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Simone reached across the table.
"I'll help however I can."
I looked at her.
She continued.
"I want the records corrected. I want my money back. And I want him to stop doing this to anyone else."
I nodded.
"Then we start with the truth."
That afternoon, Rachel contacted the lender with the new documents.
The evidence strengthened our challenge to the personal guarantee.
It also raised questions about Daniel's representations during the loan process.
Meanwhile, Simone began the process of securing her own financial records and determining what rights, if any, she had regarding her contributions.
We weren't friends.
Not yet.
But we were no longer strangers connected only by one man's lies.
We were two women who had finally compared the stories Daniel told us.
And his stories couldn't survive the comparison.
That evening, Patricia called me again.
Her tone was furious.
"You had no right to drag Simone into this."
I froze.
"How do you know about Simone?"
Silence.
May you like
Then Patricia said something that made every nerve in my body tighten.
"Because I've known about her for over a year."
