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Page 67 of The Me I Left Behind

“Normally.”

“But this isn’t normal, is it?”

“No.” Julia flipped the papers over to the top again on her legal pad. “Max will push the envelope on everything. He insists on selling the house, and that the proceeds go directly to him, because he is the sole owner.”

“Wait. What?”

“I did some research, Maggie. Your name is not on the title, deed, or the mortgage.”

“But it is marital property, right? Don’t I have some say in whether or not the house sells? Am I not entitled to any of the proceeds?”

“That’s generally the way it works. Even if your name isn’t listed, you’ve been married for twenty years, you’ve established a residence there, made a home for your children and maintained it for Max. Those are pluses in your column. But Max can request whatever he wants to request. He likely won’t get it, but a judge could agree, and that’s what he’s betting on.”

“Shit.”

“He is also making the case that instead of you getting proceeds from the sale, he will buy you a two-bedroom condo,”

Pushing back, Maggie stared out the window.What the hell?“I don’t want a fucking condo, and I don’t want him to buy it for me, either. I’ll buy and choose my own place. Besides, I need more room for the kids.”

“That’s the other thing.”

Maggie froze. Icy tremors tripped up her spine. “What does that mean?”

“He’s suing for full custody, claiming you are an unfit mother, citing a history of mental illness.”

“Excuse me?”

Julia took a breath. “He claims you’ve been on antidepressants for years and that there is mental illness in the family. Apparently, he says your mother was hospitalized for depression.”

“Fuck.” Maggie’s stomach turned over. “You know he’s only doing this, making the case for wanting them, because he doesn’t want them to think he’s abandoning them.”

“Maybe so. And we can certainly play that up.” Julia reached for her hand. “But let’s address his claim.”

“Well, I take antidepressants, yes. Who wouldn’t, given the circumstances?”

“Anything else?”

Maggie’s thoughts rolled over her recent recollections. “I saw a therapist years ago because of my mother issues. Max knew that. Do you think he’s talking about that, too?”

“I don’t know.” Julia exhaled and glanced over her notes. “Maybe. You never talked much about your family, Mags. Is he right? Is your mom mentally ill?”

My mother is crazy.

Just get out of this damn town. Out of this fucking house.

Mary Margaret Brennan! I’d kill myself right here and now, put a gun in my goddamn mouth and pull the fucking trigger, but I don’t want you to feel guilty for the rest of your life.

“Mom spent time in a facility,” she told Julia. “She threatened suicide, waving a gun around, and my dad called the cops. She willingly agreed to commit herself. But seeking help with mental health is not a bad thing. Is it?”

I am not like my mother.

Julia squeezed her hand tighter. “No, but let’s see how Max and his attorney spin it. Right now, let’s worry more about some of the other things.”

She would have a difficult time doing that, but would try. “Like…?”

“Like, the condo thing. He wants to move the kids to Australia. Therefore, all you need, according to him, is the condo. His attorney even suggested Max was being generous with the two-bedroom unit.”

“Well, how fucking special.”


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