Chapter 5 - I had already called a divorce attorney
Adrian Cole was not originally my criminal-case attorney.
He was a family lawyer.
I first called him nine days before my leg broke.
Not because Luke had ever hit me.
He had not.
Not before that day.
He had become controlling in other ways.
Taking my car keys during arguments.
Standing in doorways.
Demanding passwords.
Calling my supervisor when I stayed late at work.
Reading texts over my shoulder.
Then apologizing.
Then doing something similar again.
The final trigger was financial.
I discovered a draft email from Luke to our bank officer:
Clover is on board. She just wants her attorney to review wording.
I was not on board.
I asked:
“Why did you tell him that?”
Luke said:
“Because you’ll come around.”
“No.”
“You always start with no.”
“No means no.”
“Not in marriage.”
That sentence changed something.
I called Adrian the next morning.
We discussed:
Separation.
Housing.
Joint accounts.
Personal property.
Whether I could remain in the house temporarily.
How to preserve financial records.
Not secret revenge.
Procedure.
He advised:
“Do not clear joint accounts.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not sign business documents.”
“Definitely not.”
“Secure copies of your identity records.”
I did.
Mostly.
Passport.
Birth certificate.
Employment records.
Bank statements.
I moved them to a safe-deposit box.
I did not tell Luke.
Then Adrian asked:
“Do you feel physically unsafe?”
I paused.
“No.”
At the time, I believed that.
He said:
May you like
“If that changes, treat it as a safety issue, not a marriage argument.”
Nine days later, I understood exactly what he meant.
