Then I reached the final paragraph.
I’m sure Nathan will eventually be responsible for a significant portion of the business. Before we marry, I need to understand what that means for our household’s long-term financial security.
I looked up.
“When did you receive this?”
“Thirty-eight days ago.”
“And why didn’t you tell me?”
Rachel folded her hands.
“Because I didn’t know whether you’d sent her to ask. I wasn’t going to create a family conflict over questions that, by themselves, weren’t improper.”
I studied the email again.
“Did she tell you I’d approved the inquiry?”
“No. She said the two of you were discussing your future.”
We hadn’t discussed any of it.
Not my company shares.
Not the family trust.
Not what would happen if I died.
Ashley had occasionally asked how much Bennett Freight was worth, but I’d always told her the same thing.
A private company’s valuation wasn’t the same as cash in a bank account, and most of the business wasn’t mine to give away.
I’d believed her questions were ordinary curiosity.
Rachel watched me.
“Nathan, I need you to understand something. Asking about financial arrangements before marriage isn’t automatically suspicious.”
“I know.”
“What’s worrying me is that you’re hearing about it for the first time.”
I stared at the page.
Then I remembered something Ashley had said during our honeymoon planning.
Your mother isn’t going to control our money forever.
At the time, I thought she meant we should make independent financial decisions.
Now I wondered what she believed our money included.
“Rachel,” I asked, “did Ashley ever request an actual transfer?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Not from me.”
