Chapter 2: The House They Wanted Me to Pay For

While they were still arguing about the twelve thousand dollars, I turned to the closing attorney.

“Please ask them to leave.”

Luke froze.

“Elena—”

“I need to speak with my attorney alone.”

Once the door clicked shut, the room fell quiet.

I didn’t touch the pen on the table.

“If I sign today, what happens next?”

The attorney pulled up the draft of the deed and pointed to the ownership section.

“Per Mr. Mercer’s prior request, the property would be titled as joint tenants with right of survivorship.”

He continued, “That means regardless of who pays the down payment or the mortgage, once the deed is executed, you would each own fifty percent of the property. If one of you were to pass away, the other would automatically inherit the entire property.”

My fingers curled into a fist.

No wonder Luke had insisted on that.

He had held me, telling me, “It’s so you’ll feel secure. If anything happens to me, the house will be all yours.”

I had actually believed it was a gesture of love.

“He’s married,” I said. “How does that affect things?”

The attorney paused.

“His wife would not be a co-owner on the deed, but as his legal spouse, she could claim marital rights to his share of the property. She could also legally reside there. Any future sale, refinance, or transfer could be significantly complicated.”

So this was never going to be our home.

It was just Luke locking in his half, with a legal backdoor for Maya to claim her share through him.

The attorney opened the loan file.

“There’s one more thing you should be aware of. Mr. Mercer’s credit score is not sufficient to secure this loan on its own. The bank’s approval is based almost entirely on your income, your debt-to-income ratio, and your credit history.”

I stared at the pages, a memory surfacing from two years ago.

Luke had been denied a simple car loan because of his history of late payments.

I’d had to add him as an authorized user on my credit card, set up payment reminders for all his accounts, and review his statements every single month.

And every time, he’d acted annoyed.

“Does it really have to be this complicated?”

“What’s the big deal if a payment is a few days late?”

I thought he was just careless with money, so I kept cleaning up his messes.

Now I understood.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know any better.

He just didn’t want to be responsible for himself. Building his own credit was too much work, but he was more than happy to ride on mine, take half the house, and wrap it all up as a wedding present for his marriage to Maya.

The attorney looked at me, his expression softening.

“Ms. Brooks, are you all right?”

I closed the loan file and stood.

“I’ve never been more clearheaded.”

If I signed today, I would be legally obligated to use my money to buy a home for my ex-fiancé and his wife. A home they could live in, a home they would have rights to, all on my dime.

I picked up my handbag and nodded to the attorney.

“Thank you for explaining everything so clearly.”

Then I turned and walked out of the closing room.