My husband had twins with my best friend. I signed the divorce papers without a word. Then he went to his mother’s house, and she went white and said, “She still hasn’t told you about that?”
Teague Adair received a fee. Nineteen thousand dollars over two years, for signing things. He has cooperated fully since June and he is not, in my opinion, a bad man; he is a man who sells flooring and was told by his cousin it was a tax structure.
Criminal. Charges were filed in September of last year. Corbin pled in June. Restitution and a custodial sentence which I am not going to write down because it is public and because writing it down would be for me and not for anybody reading this.
Blythe was charged in November. Her matter is ongoing.
The divorce was finalised in March.
Rourke & Line was founded two years before I met him and remained separate property in every jurisdiction that matters, which he never once checked in eleven years because he never once believed he would need to.
The house was marital. His half was substantially consumed by the restitution order.
The recovery. We got back four hundred and ten thousand of the seven eighty-six. The rest is in a penthouse lease, a maternity package and a nursery, and it is gone.
Rourke & Line survived. We lost two clients in October and gained four in the spring, because — and I did not expect this — a compliance firm whose founder found and prosecuted a fraud inside her own house is, apparently, a good advertisement.
