My former husband started house hunting during our engagement. A few months into our marriage, he took me to meet who I thought was our prospective builder. It was a contract sabotage. My new husband signed the last page without even looking at the other pages. He then passed the contract to me, and I was told to “sign here.”
I turned to page one and began reading. My husband said there was no need to read the contract, and to just sign below his signature. Continuing reading, I discovered “our” new home loan listed my home as equity. Further on I read that “our” new home would be titled in his name only. When I refused to sign, I was informed I had to sign because he had.
‘Never just “sign here,” especially if someone, even your own husband, is telling you to do so.’
I responded, “Then he just bought a house,” and I continued to refuse to sign. I was told he didn’t qualify without the equity in my house. I said I didn’t see that as being my problem. They both went ballistic, demanding I sign. I quietly picked up my purse, walked out of the building, and was halfway to my house when my husband offered me a ride.
Our marriage didn’t last long. After he moved out of my house, I received a package in the mail. Inside were divorce papers, which were clearly in his favor. On the last page was a little sticky arrow that said “sign here.” Again, it was never going to happen! I still got burned in the end, but just around the edges. When I sold my house years later, all the profit was mine.
Never just “sign here,” especially if someone, even your husband is telling you to do so. Not signing was the best decision of my life.
Happily Divorced
P.S. The contract intentionally, on his part, failed to disclose both our credit-card debt. Had I signed, we’d both be guilty of fraud. He didn’t reveal the exclusion until well into the “sign here” pressure push. He claimed not “including” my debt was doing me a favor. You should have seen the builder agent’s face when I said, “Your credit-card debt is a lot more than mine!”
Related: Here are the Moneyist’s 5 worst dating stories
Dear Divorced,
What I find most inspiring and amazing about your letter is that, even when you were under pressure to sign these documents by someone you would normally trust, you refused to do so. Perhaps there were “red flags” that put you on notice or, maybe you were taught to never sign something, anything, before reading it first.
I don’t know you and yet I am proud of you for what you did. Because it not only represents someone who refused to be hoodwinked by their spouse, it’s also a shot in the arm for anyone who has made a bad decision under pressure from someone else: whether it’s to sign a timeshare agreement, buy a car or switch electricity providers.
They used the hallmarks of all con artists: time pressure (it must happen now), the age-old con (I am someone you like and we have built up a bond of trust), the suspension of disbelief (everything is OK as long as you sign it) and a vague threat (this is an uncomfortable situation and the best way to be free from that feeling is to sign).
One-trick pony
Like many scammers, your husband tried again with the divorce papers. Sometimes, people say these people who gain your trust are geniuses because they manage to convince you they are upstanding, charismatic individuals, and can sustain that over a long time. But they’re not Albert Einstein or Warren Buffett. If they were, they wouldn’t be trying to con their spouse.
What’s more, your ex-husband, like many phishing or confidence thieves, was a one-trick pony. His “sign here” trick didn’t work the first time, but he was devoid of any other ways to get his hands on your assets, so he merely tried the same method a second time. I only hope his next “mark” will be as strong as you when put under such pressure.
Beware of love bombers. They tell you what you want to hear. They promise you the world. They find out what you want: companionship, romance, stability, love, and they give it to you in spades until you are either hooked and/or (in your case) married. And then the payoff begins, and it won’t end until you decide to walk out that door, just like you did.
‘Then one day…’
Paul Colaianni, author of “The Overwhelmed Brain,” writes on his blog about relationship con artists. He writes: “Their stories are often the same: ‘I felt like I met my soulmate. I was showered with compliments and gifts. We would talk about our future and I fell for him/her fast. We dated for a few months then moved in together. It was a dream come true. Then one day…’”
“The ‘then one day’ comment is usually the moment they saw their new partner’s true colors. From there, their stories often sound like this: ‘…then one day, they got upset that I wanted to go see my mom for the weekend …then one day, they made a comment about my weight … then one day, they acted jealous that I wanted to spend time with my friends.’”
“They put you through a ‘grooming’ and ‘conditioning’ process,” he adds. “You get groomed into loving and trusting someone that plans to turn against you after they know you are loyal to them. They make you believe they are kind, supportive, and loving. You get conditioned into believing that they are really there for you and have your best interest in mind.”
Signing a contract
Sometimes, signing a contract can be too easy, as you experienced with your divorce papers. This happened to another letter writer whose husband offered the house they lived in. However, due to his far greater salary, she would have thrown away a lot more money in terms of retirement funds and a house he claimed was in negative equity.
Signing certain legal documents requires a witness, which your husband had provided, and they must be undertaken without coercion or undue influence, the signatories must have “testamentary capacity” and be of sound mind. But it’s much harder to successfully argue in court that you felt under pressure and didn’t feel like you had time to read the contract.
After reading a contract, as you are no doubt aware, you should always have your own attorney read and approve the contract; they should be someone you trust and who can answer all your questions. And if you are still not satisfied? Don’t sign it. I hope others find your experience a cautionary tale. And good luck with all of your future pursuits.
You can email The Moneyist with any financial and ethical questions at qfottrell@marketwatch.com, and follow Quentin Fottrell on X, the platform formerly known as Twitter.
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