CHAP 5 — NATALIE PRICE
Natalie did not answer my calls.
She did answer Nina’s.
Only after Nina mentioned subpoenas.
Natalie hired her own lawyer within twenty-four hours.
That told us enough to keep digging.
She was thirty-four.
Married.
Two children.
She had worked with Derek for six years.
I had met her four times.
At every company event, she had been polite without being warm.
Derek described her as “the only competent person in finance.”
I had never felt threatened by her.
That turned out to be useful.
Not every betrayal is an affair.
Sometimes the truth is uglier because romance has nothing to do with it.
Natalie had helped Derek build hidden accounts.
She had created Collins Strategic Consulting paperwork.
She had redirected consulting income that should have appeared on joint tax disclosures.
And according to bank records, she had received $19,000 from Derek over four months.
Derek’s explanation?
“Bookkeeping services.”
Natalie’s lawyer gave a different one.
The first time Nina interviewed her, Natalie refused almost everything.
The second time, Nina showed her the forged HELOC signature.
Natalie’s attitude changed.
“I didn’t know he forged Megan’s signature.”
“But you knew where the money came from?”
“I thought she signed.”
“Did you see her sign?”
“No.”
“Did Derek tell you Megan knew about Collins Strategic?”
“No.”
“Then what exactly did you think you were helping him do?”
Natalie looked down.
“Prepare for divorce.”
There it was.
“How long?”
“Since April.”
Three months before labor.
“Why was he moving money?”
Natalie’s lawyer objected.
Natalie answered anyway.
“He said Megan would take half of everything.”
I almost laughed when Nina told me.
Half.
Half of money earned during a marriage.
Half of a house I had put sixty thousand dollars into.
Derek considered fairness theft when it applied to him.
Natalie continued.
Derek wanted his financial picture to look smaller before filing.
Bonuses delayed.
Consulting payments moved.
Equity borrowed.
Expenses accelerated.
He believed he could characterize some assets as business property.
Nina asked:
“Why file immediately after Megan left?”
Natalie hesitated.
“Because that wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What was supposed to happen?”
“Megan was supposed to give birth at Riverside.”
“And then?”
Another pause.
“Derek said after she came home, he would convince her to take a year off work.”
My heart stopped.
I had been planning to return after twelve weeks.
Derek had argued constantly that daycare would “eat my whole paycheck.”
He told me staying home made financial sense.
Natalie continued.
“He wanted her financially dependent before serving divorce papers.”
Rachel swore under her breath.
But Nina kept going.
“Why?”
“Custody leverage.”
The phrase felt clinical.
It described something monstrous.
Natalie explained.
Derek had told his lawyer that Megan had limited income and would likely struggle to establish housing after separation.
If the house remained primarily under his financial control, and if he could demonstrate he was the stable earner maintaining the marital residence, he believed he would have stronger bargaining power.
He did not necessarily want sole custody.
He wanted leverage.
Emily had been part of a negotiation before she was even born.
I sat in silence after Nina finished recounting the interview.
Then asked:
“Was Natalie sleeping with him?”
Nina sighed.
“There’s evidence they spent time together outside work.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No proof of an affair.”
Surprisingly, I felt relieved.
Not because I cared whether Derek had cheated anymore.
Because I did not want this to become that story.
A wife betrayed because another woman appeared.
No.
Derek had done this himself.
For money.
Control.
Strategy.
That was worse.
Natalie eventually turned over emails.
One dated five weeks before Emily’s birth read:
Once Megan stops working, she won’t have the resources to fight much.
Another:
Mom says we can document that she’s overwhelmed after delivery.
And another:
Need to make sure Rachel doesn’t interfere. Megan listens to her too much.
My sister read it twice.
Then laughed without humor.
“He was planning for me too.”
Derek had mapped the people around me the way someone maps exits.
Nina filed the emails with the court.
Derek’s lawyers called them “informal venting.”
Then Derek struck back.
He filed a motion claiming Rachel had orchestrated my departure and was deliberately alienating Emily from him.
He attached witness statements.
One was from Elaine.
Expected.
One from a neighbor.
Painful, but manageable.
The third made me stop breathing.
JENNA MARSHALL.
My best friend.
Maid of honor at my wedding.
The woman who had sat beside me at my baby shower.
Jenna’s affidavit stated:
Megan frequently told me she fantasized about taking the baby away from Derek if the marriage failed.
I stared at the sentence.
I had never said that.
Not once.
Rachel whispered:
“Why would Jenna do this?”
My phone rang.
Jenna.
I answered.
“What did he give you?”
She started crying.
“Megan—”
“What did he give you?”
“He didn’t pay me.”
“Then why?”
Silence.
Then she said:
“Because Derek told me what you did.”
I laughed.
“What did I do?”
“He showed me messages.”
“What messages?”
She whispered:
“Messages between you and another man.”
And for one second, I genuinely had no idea what she was talking about.
Then she sent the screenshots.
Messages from my number.
Flirtation.
Plans to meet.
Complaints about Derek.
One line read:
Once the baby comes, I’m leaving him and taking everything I can.
They looked real.
They even used phrases I used.
Except I had never written them.
Derek had not only prepared a financial case.
May you like
He had prepared a character assassination.
And someone had gone to extraordinary lengths to manufacture evidence in my name.
