At Easter brunch, my sister asked, “How was the Fiji wellness retreat I booked for you

A Broken Family Dynamic

Half of them thought we should support Michael because everyone makes mistakes and deserves forgiveness. The other half wanted him to face real consequences for stealing from family.

Uncle Tony and his brother got into a shouting match about whether addiction to lying was a real disease or just an excuse. Michael’s cousin said we were being too hard on him and that marriage was about standing by each other.

I realized sitting there that some of these relationships would never recover, and that was okay. Alistair called the next day to say Michael’s attorney wanted to start settlement negotiations about the house and custody and debts.

They were proposing different arrangements, including Michael keeping the house if he took on all the debt, but Alistair laughed at that one. He said we’d push for maximum protection, which meant I’d keep the house and primary custody while Michael paid support based on what he could be earning, not what he claimed to earn.

The negotiations would take weeks, but at least we were moving forward with dividing everything up legally. Three days later, Michael’s company made it official and fired him with no severance pay, citing gross misconduct and fraud.

The letter said he’d violated multiple policies, including falsifying medical documents and misusing company benefits. Without his salary, the child support calculations would be based on imputed income, which meant what he should be able to earn with his education and experience.

Alistair said this was actually better for us because the court wouldn’t let him claim poverty to avoid paying support.

Legal Realities and Hard Choices

The prosecutor called 2 days later while I was sorting through bills at the kitchen table. She explained they’d reviewed all the evidence and decided to move forward with charges on the fake FMLA paperwork, but couldn’t prosecute the fraud against Tara since it was more of a civil matter.

I felt my stomach drop as she went through the legal reasons why stealing $54,000 from family wasn’t criminal enough for them to pursue.

Alistair had warned me this might happen, but hearing it made me want to throw something at the wall. He called right after I hung up with the prosecutor and reminded me that at least Michael would face some consequences for the federal paperwork violations.

The court hearing for temporary support happened the following week in a small room that smelled like old coffee and disappointment. Michael showed up in a wrinkled suit claiming he couldn’t pay anything since he’d lost his job.

The judge looked at his education history and work experience before setting the support amount based on what someone with his background should be earning.

Michael stood up so fast his chair fell over and started arguing that he couldn’t pay money he didn’t have. The judge cut him off mid-sentence and explained that choosing not to work didn’t excuse him from supporting his children.

I watched Michael’s face turn red as the judge signed the order requiring $800 a month starting immediately.

The family meeting about grandma’s house took 3 weeks of angry phone calls and text arguments before everyone finally agreed to meet at Uncle Tony’s place. Half the cousins didn’t even show up because they were so mad about the whole situation.

The ones who came spent two hours arguing about whether it was fair to punish them for Michael’s lies. Michael’s mom finally slammed her hand on the table and said the house was going to Tara whether they liked it or not.

The signing happened at a title company downtown with only Tara, Michael’s mom, and the necessary witnesses present.

Finding a New Path

I heard later that two of the cousins had sworn they’d never speak to any of us again. The divide in the family felt like a crack that would never heal, but at least Tara was getting something back.

I found the rental house online after looking at dozens of places we couldn’t afford. It was smaller than our current home with just two bedrooms and a tiny yard, but the rent was half what we’d been paying.

I started packing while the kids were at school, wrapping dishes in newspaper and trying not to cry at how much we were losing. When I picked them up that afternoon, I told them we were going on an adventure to a new house where we’d make new memories.

Jake helped me pack his room without complaining, but I saw him carefully wrap his baseball trophies like they were made of glass.

Lily asked if daddy would know where to find us at the new house, and I had to turn away so she wouldn’t see my face. The moving day came fast and we loaded everything into a rented truck with help from Tara and my mom.

Janie had been meeting with the kids twice a week at her office near the school. She used games and art projects to help them talk about their feelings without making it feel like therapy.

Jake had stopped asking about medical things completely and didn’t offer to help when I had a headache anymore. Lily’s nightmares about daddy dying had stopped and she was sleeping through the whole night for the first time in months.

Janie showed me drawings Lily had made of our family where Michael was colored in black while the rest of us were bright colors. She explained this was normal for kids processing betrayal and that both children were making good progress.

The sessions cost money we didn’t have, but Janie had worked out a sliding scale payment plan based on our situation.

Rebuilding Stability

My mom and I sat in the financial advisor’s office looking at spreadsheets that made my head hurt. The second mortgage payment was eating up most of her social security and pension money every month.

The advisor suggested renting out her spare bedroom to help cover the payments until we could figure out something better. Mom didn’t want strangers in her house but agreed it was better than losing it completely.

We put ads online that week and started interviewing potential renters who seemed confused why a nice older lady needed a roommate. Mom told them her daughter was going through a divorce and left it at that.

Michael’s attorney called Alistair asking if I’d write a letter supporting Michael getting into a treatment program for compulsive lying and spending problems.

Alistair put it on speaker so I could hear the whole request about how Michael wanted to get better and needed family support. So Michael’s lawyer wants her to write a support letter for his treatment program after everything—the forged documents, stealing from grandma, traumatizing the kids? Now he needs her help to look good for court.

I told Alistair I wouldn’t stop him from getting help, but I wasn’t going to write any letters either. Michael could figure out his own treatment without using me as a character reference after everything he’d done.

The separation agreement took another month of back-and-forth negotiations before we finally had something both sides could accept. I kept primary custody and most of the house equity, but had to take on the credit card debt from when I thought we were paying for treatments.

It wasn’t fair, but Alistair said it gave us stability and that was worth more than fighting over every dollar.

Acceptance and Moving Forward

The signing happened at Alistair’s office with Michael avoiding eye contact the entire time. His hand shook as he signed the papers and I noticed he’d lost weight since the restaurant confrontation.

Part of me felt sorry for him until I remembered the kids asking why daddy didn’t live with us anymore. Michael started his court-ordered program at a behavioral health center across town 2 weeks later.

The judge required compliance reports every month that would determine if he could have longer visits with the kids. The first report said he was participating but had trouble accepting responsibility for his actions.

The supervisor noted he kept trying to explain why his lies were actually attempts to protect his family.

Eva sent a thick envelope by certified mail with copies of everything from Michael’s termination file. The investigation report detailed every fake document and false claim he’d submitted over two years.

She’d highlighted sections showing when he’d claimed to be at medical appointments while his company credit card showed beach resort charges. The cover letter said the company had provided everything to prosecutors and wished me luck with the divorce proceedings.

I filed it all in a binder labeled “evidence” that was getting thicker every week.

Tara showed up at my door the next morning with boxes and trash bags saying she was done with Michael forever. She blocked his number while sitting at my kitchen table, then deleted him from social media and threw away every photo she had of him.

Her new boyfriend didn’t know the whole story yet and she wanted to keep it that way for now. I drove to the pawn shop that afternoon to check on grandmother’s pearls one more time, but the owner shook his head before I even asked.

Someone bought them two days ago and he couldn’t give me their information even if he wanted to. The pearls were gone forever and I sat in my car for 20 minutes trying to accept that some things couldn’t be fixed.