PART 3
Daniel looked at the clock. Jocelyn, you’ve been supporting that house for six years.”
“Seven.”
He frowned.
“Seven?”
I nodded.
“Seven years, three months, and twelve days.”
He gave me a tired smile.
“You actually counted?”
“I counted because I needed to remember how long I had been pretending it didn’t bother me.”
Kendra reopened the folder.
The first document was the original property agreement.
Travis had purchased the suburban house after his second marriage, but the down payment had not come from his salary.
It had come from me.
At the time, I had convinced myself it was a gift for Brittany.
Travis had been struggling financially. His credit was damaged. His business had collapsed after a series of bad investments, and he was terrified Brittany would stop wanting to visit him.
So I had offered him a solution.
I would purchase the property through one of my holding companies.
He could live there.
Brittany could have her room.
He would make monthly payments.
And once the agreed amount was repaid, the property could be transferred.
There was only one condition.
The house could never be sold, refinanced, or transferred without my written consent while Brittany was still a minor.
It had seemed reasonable.
At the time, I hadn’t wanted to control Travis.
I wanted to give my daughter a stable place to spend time with her father.
But then something happened.
Travis stopped making the payments.
At first, it was one month.
Then three.
Then six.
I never pushed.
I simply paid the mortgage myself.
Taxes.
Insurance.
Repairs.
Property maintenance.
When the roof needed replacing, I paid.
When the furnace broke, I paid.
When Brittany wanted her bedroom remodeled, I paid.
When Travis bought a new truck and complained that the house needed landscaping, I paid for that too.
I had never told Brittany.
Not once.
Because every time she came home from Travis’s house smiling, I thought the same thing:
Let her have her father.
She deserves that.
