“And why are you taking everything from this place?” Suzanne demanded. “We all used that coffee maker.”

“I bought it,” Skylar said coldly. “Just like the living room set, the refrigerator, and half of what your brother brags about to everyone.”

Derek clenched his jaw, his face reddening with anger.

“This apartment is mine too, Skylar,” he snapped. “I’m your husband.”

Skylar opened the yellow folder and set a copy of the legal deed on the table.

“No, Derek,” she replied. “It’s been mine since two years before we got married. The mortgage, the property taxes, the maintenance—I pay all of it. Your name isn’t on any of it.”