The investigation revealed that Natalie had no idea I existed. Denise had told her he was a widower whose “late wife’s family” was very demanding of his time, explaining his frequent disappearances. He had lied to both of us with terrifying precision.
Natalie and I eventually met, not in anger, but in a shared sense of violation. We sat in my lawyer’s office and compared notes, realizing he had used the same romantic lines and the same excuses on both of us. We were two sides of a coin he had been flipping for years.
Denise lost everything in the divorce. The “bonus” house was sold to cover legal fees and a massive settlement, as the court took a very dim view of his financial deceptions. He now lives in a cramped apartment, seeing the kids only on supervised weekends.
He tried to blame the “stress of the pandemic” and his “need for an escape,” but the judge wasn’t interested in his excuses. A double life isn’t a mistake; it’s a series of thousands of conscious choices. He chose to lie every morning he woke up.
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