Forced Into Fake Divorce for His Brother, I Left Them

Every time my mother-in-law came asking for money to prop up her younger son, I'd hand her a signed ledger sheet:

Sign the IOU, take the cash.

They all thought I was just going through the motions. Not once did any of them ever pay a cent back.

Then, when I was eight months pregnant, my husband slapped a divorce agreement down on the dining table.

His mother stood beside him, all smiles.

"Sweetie, just bear with a pretend divorce so we can transfer the house. The second your brother's got his property paperwork done, we'll remarry, I promise!"

"It's just a signature, that's all."

I looked at the clause on the agreement, the one that said the wife walks away with nothing, and passed him the pen and the ink pad.

He signed fast. Pressed his thumbprint just as fast.

And the moment he tucked that agreement away to head off to the county property records office,

I changed the door lock code and kicked his suitcase out the door.

"Congratulations."

"Starting now, we really are divorced."

For a few seconds it was quiet out in the hall.

Craig James hadn't understood a word I'd said.

"Dorothy Henson, what the hell has gotten into you?"

He wrenched the handle a few times, hard, and the keypad lock let out an alarm.

"Open this door, now!"

"Morton's waiting to go to the records office."

"If the transfer gets held up, Clara's family is going to raise hell again."

I answered through the door.

"If he can't get married, what does that have to do with me?"

Craig kept pounding on the door.

"Don't you throw a tantrum just because you're pregnant!"

"You agreed to the fake divorce yourself. Said it with your own mouth."

"The waiting period's over, we picked up the divorce papers today, and now you're causing a scene?"

I glanced at the crisp new divorce certificate on the corner of the table.

Coming out of the county clerk's office today, he'd pulled out a document he called a divorce agreement, when it was really a supplementary property arrangement, and tricked me into signing over the house.

He'd been too eager. All he cared about was watching me sign; he never once read what he was putting his own name to.

"So you know we've already gotten the divorce papers."

I ran a hand over my belly.

"Which means we have nothing to do with each other now."

"I bought this house outright before we married. You have no right to live here."

"And the transfer? Keep dreaming."

Joyce Lambert's cursing came through the door.

"This is outrageous!"

She started kicking it.

"Craig is your husband, so his brother is your own brother!"

"You get to live in a place this big while Morton can't even get married. Do you have no conscience at all?"

"Mom, take it easy."

Craig lowered his voice to calm her, then shouted at me,

"Dorothy, don't push this to the point of no return."

"Once the house goes to Morton, I'll still take you back, same as before."

"Take me back?"

I laughed out loud.

"Take me back to whose house?"

Joyce couldn't hold it in and screeched,

"The house goes to Morton, so of course it's Morton's!"

"You're a woman who married into this family. You think you get to hog the James family's property?"

"Once she's had the baby and finished her recovery, we send her back to her own people!"

Craig gave the door a kick.

"Dorothy, don't listen to my mom's nonsense."

"I'm warning you, if you don't sign that deed of gift, I have plenty of ways to deal with you."

"You're carrying my child in there."

"Prenatal checkups, the hospital, raising the kid, which of those doesn't cost money?"

"Push me too far and you won't see a single dollar of child support!"

I recorded every word coming from the other side of the door.

"Are you finished?"

Craig sneered.

"You've even quit your job. How many days is the little bit of money you've got going to last?"

"A woman about to give birth. What are you going to do without me?"

It went on for another ten minutes or so before it finally stopped.

Before he left, Craig slammed the door one last time.

"Tomorrow you'll be begging me to come back!"

Once the footsteps faded, I went into the bedroom and opened the safe at the very back of the closet.

Inside were more than sixty IOUs, along with the matching bank records for every one of them.

Every IOU carried Joyce's and Morton's signatures, their ID numbers, and their red thumbprints.

I was sliding the papers into a document folder when my phone suddenly buzzed.

A message from Craig.

"Hand over the house and I'll still keep you as my wife."

"Otherwise you and that baby in your belly can live or die on your own. Don't come to me."

I'd just finished the screen recording when a sharp cramp shot through my lower belly.

It took half a minute before the pain slowly ebbed away.

I picked up my phone, about to call the doctor.

Another message from Craig popped up on the screen.

"Since you won't take the easy way, tomorrow I'll have you on your knees begging me to open the door!"

The next morning I woke to a cramp low in my belly.

I couldn't afford to wait. I grabbed my prenatal file and headed for the hospital.

On the way out I passed a pharmacy and figured I'd pick up a blood pressure monitor first.

But the payment screen kept flashing failed transaction.

I tried another card. Same thing.

Then two notifications came in one after another.

The family medical card Craig had set up through his work in my name had been reported lost, and the joint household savings account we shared had been frozen.

Last night he was still making threats. Today he'd cut off every cent I could touch.

The phone rang, right on cue.

I answered, and Craig asked, smug:

"See the notifications?"

"Dorothy, without me you can't even get to a hospital."

"Open the door now and we can still talk this out nicely."

I hit record.

"You know I'm eight months pregnant and not feeling well, and you cut off the medical card on purpose?"

"Don't use the baby to scare me."

He snorted.

"Weren't you all tough yesterday? Go on, figure it out yourself."

"Sign the house over to Morton James and I'll turn the medical card back on and take you to the hospital myself."

"Otherwise you can just sit at home and rot."

I hung up and pulled the backup bank card out of my phone case.

I'd barely reached the gate of the complex when a group of people cut me off.

Joyce grabbed my wrist and yanked hard.

"Finally, there you are!"

Morton stood behind her, and beside him his fiance Clara Whitney with Clara's parents.

Clara jabbed a finger in my face and started shouting.

"Dorothy, have you got no shame?"

"Sitting on that house so you're marrying his brother, and because of you Morton and I can't even get married."

I shook Joyce off.

"I bought that house before the marriage. Since when is it yours?"

Clara's mother jumped right in:

"Once you marry, the house belongs to the husband's family."

"You're carrying a James baby. You should be thinking about the James family."

"You're signing that agreement today, or there's no wedding and we're not giving back the fifty thousand in engagement money either!"

Morton panicked and turned to soothe her:

"Ma'am, don't worry, the house is definitely ours."

Then he glared at me.

"My brother supported you all these years. What's wrong with paying him back with one house?"

"My brother said if you don't sign, he shuts off your cards. Let's see how long you last!"

The crowd around us kept growing.

Seeing that, Joyce dropped straight onto the ground, slapping her thigh and wailing.

"Everybody come judge this for yourselves!"

"My son married a shameless woman who cheats on him, and God knows whose bastard she's got in her belly!"

"My son's generous, he let it go, and she wants to grab the whole family's property and throw us all out!"

The comments came flying from the crowd.

"She looks so quiet and proper. How could she do something like that?"

"No wonder the husband insists on divorcing, even with the baby almost due."

Joyce cried harder, then lunged to snatch my prenatal file.

I backed away with my arms over my belly and started filming.

"Every word you say today, I'm keeping a record of it."

Joyce froze mid-motion.

Craig came striding over from a distance.

"Dorothy, how did you upset Mom again?"

He helped Joyce up, then turned to the onlookers with a sigh.

"She's been emotionally unstable since she got pregnant. Please don't blame her."

He came up to me and pretended to straighten my collar.

"You're a pregnant woman. You can't beat me."

"Sign the agreement now and I'll unfreeze the cards right away and take you to the hospital."

"Drag it out any longer, and if something happens to the baby, don't say I didn't warn you."

I raised my hand and pushed him away.

"You're the one who'll be sorry."

I called an Uber right in front of him.

Joyce tried to block me, but the driver was already out, opening the door for me.

The car pulled out of the complex and I immediately texted my best friend, Frances.

I'd barely sent one message when a tearing pain ripped through my belly.

The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror.

"Miss, are you all right?"

"The hospital, hurry!"

The words were barely out when a warm liquid ran down my thigh.