Chapter 12 - The Letters Lorraine Kept
Lorraine agreed to meet only if Nora was not present.
I refused.
We compromised by meeting in a conference room at Nora’s office.
Lorraine arrived carrying a faded blue shopping bag.
She looked older than she had two weeks earlier.
Anger had kept her upright for years.
Now that Andrew had distanced himself, the anger seemed to have lost its structure.
She placed the bag on the table.
“I should burn these.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because my son decided I was disposable.”
There it was.
Not remorse.
Revenge.
I did not care why the truth had arrived.
I only cared whether it was real.
Inside the bag were printed emails between Lorraine and Andrew.
Some went back almost two years.
One began shortly after she moved into our house.
Andrew wrote.
Claire has money but acts like every dollar needs permission.
Lorraine replied.
That inheritance should have become family money when she married you.
Another email came eight months later.
Andrew complained that I refused to use inheritance funds to invest in one of his projects.
Lorraine responded.
Then stop asking.
Make her afraid of losing the marriage.
My stomach turned.
Andrew answered.
She never believes I’ll actually leave.
Lorraine wrote.
Then I’ll make her believe she can’t stand staying.
I looked up.
“You planned this for years.”
Lorraine shook her head.
“No.”
“It is written here.”
“I was angry.”
“You moved into my home and deliberately tried to make me miserable.”
“He said you controlled everything.”
“I paid for everything.”
“That made him feel small.”
“So you decided I should feel smaller.”
She looked away.
There was one email from six months before the affair began.
Andrew wrote.
If we ever split, the postnup kills me on the house.
Lorraine answered.
Only if it holds.
Andrew asked.
How do we get around it?
Lorraine’s reply was short.
Get her to agree to something new.
That was the beginning.
Months before Serena.
Months before the cottage weekends.
Months before the fake email addresses.
The property plan had started first.
The affair became part of the future Andrew imagined after the money problem had already begun.
Then I found an email dated two weeks before my birthday.
Lorraine wrote.
What if she still refuses to go?
Andrew answered.
Push harder.
Lorraine asked.
How hard?
There was no written response.
But the pot came fourteen days later.
I looked at her.
“What did he tell you?”
Lorraine’s eyes filled with tears.
“He told me to make you explode.”
“How?”
“He said if you lost your temper, we could show people what living with you was like.”
“So you tried to provoke me.”
“Yes.”
“And when I refused?”
She looked toward the table.
“I got angry.”
“That pot did not slip.”
“No.”
The word landed between us.
For the first time, Lorraine admitted it.
“You threw it.”
“Yes.”
“Were you trying to hit me?”
She began crying.
“I do not know.”
I stared at her.
“That is not good enough.”
“I wanted to scare you.”
“You could have killed me.”
“I know.”
She covered her face.
For a moment, I saw an elderly woman who had finally understood the size of what she had done.
Then she looked up.
“There is one more thing.”
She pulled a sealed envelope from the bag.
“Andrew does not know I kept this.”
Inside was a handwritten agreement.
Andrew promised Lorraine twenty-five thousand dollars after I left the house.
The reason was written in his own hand.
For assistance with transition and relocation.
I read the line twice.
Then I understood.
May you like
Lorraine had not simply been helping her son.
Andrew had promised to pay her for helping push me out.
