The ex had convinced her that filing their taxes together one last time would be beneficial. He even offered to do it. She thought, why not? He was offering, seeming to make amends. She should give him a chance.
That was in February.
For the rest of that month she assumed he had done it, but hadn't heard how much they were getting back. She suddenly realized at the beginning of April she hadn't gotten back to him. She asked how the taxes were coming. He said he would have them finished by Tuesday. On Thursday she asked again how they had gone. He said he got called into work and he would finish them that night.
Again, she trusted him to do it.
The following Monday her heart had sunk, she hadn't heard from him. She asked him if she needed to take over, her friend had offered to help. He replied "I may take you up on that. I keep having to work OT. I will try to see if I can finish them up tonight, but if not I will prep them and you can grab them tomorrow."
She grabbed them the next afternoon. He had called her and admitted that he tried getting all the tax stuff together the night before for the first time, and he found all his stuff...but none of hers. He'd managed to lose her one W2 to his four W2s.
"So, why did you just trust the ex to do the things?" KSL asked her.
"Because
even after 13 years I want to believe people can change and be better,
because apparently I love getting my heart trampled on." was her reply.
"What are you going to do?" KSL asked.
"Learn to never trust or love. And also get a copy of the stuff he lost and do the taxes with my friend The Accountant."
"Well the latter seems to be preferable to the former." KSL replied.
"I can't do both? Oh well, if the president can get away with tax evasion so can I" she snarked.
"I mean, you can, but it won't be fun. Any of it. I think that's an oversimplification."
She panic texted her ex-office manager who kindly emailed her another copy of her W2. She took the giant folder of paper to her friend's house. The Accountant asked her as she was on her way over what her AGI was for last year, as it would be needed to file electronically. That would mean logging into an old account from filing last year.
She remembered last year in the green tinted building, the awkward conversation with the man as she pretended to still be happily married to avoid it being awkward.
She pretended again this year to the help desk on the phone because the security question answer didn't work to log in. Her ex had put it all in his name of course, and he was currently at work and his texts were spotty.
After 2 hours of being hung up on by customer service, she turned to The Accountant with tears in her eyes and said "We just need to file the old fashion way. I'm sorry."
The Accountant was so calm and understanding, and after only 15 minutes it was done, printed out, and she was in the car on the way back to her mother's house to drop off the paperwork to be signed. She was relived that they were getting enough back to afford a divorce. She had it set up to go directly to her bank account.
She was murderous that he had dropped her with all this, yet again. Yet again she was left holding the bag and taking care of business. Like she always would.
After she dropped off the paperwork she shot him a text. "I put them by your place at the table. Please sign them and put them into an envelope but don't seal it because I haven't signed yet. I'll pick it up in the morning."
His reply "OK. What was the damage?" She was driving home and didn't answer.
"Less than $1,000?"
She was still driving.
"Well, I will see it soon enough. I will talk to you tomorrow. Happy Easter."
Her already upset demeanor became rage. What did he care either way about what the return was? And wishing her a Happy Easter? They had spent 13 years of marriage together, and he was living with her clearly Jewish mother. She had never celebrated Easter, and neither had he. Was he being passive aggressive? That wasn't like him. Either way she was pissed off.
She parked in her parking spot, took a deep breath, and answered his messages. "Around $2000. Sorry, driving home."
"Jesus!!" He answered. She ignored his text.
The next afternoon, long after she said she would be around to pick up the paperwork, he texted again.
"Oh thank god, that was a refund. I have been fretting all night how I was going to pay that."
If it was possible to make her more angry, this did. He wouldn't have even remotely worried about it. He would leave her holding the finance bag as he always did.
He was downright happy-go-lucky when she came by to pick up the paperwork. She was so mad she spoke to him in clipped sentences, saying she had milk in the car and had to get it home to a fridge.
She'd bought the milk right before heading over so she'd have an excuse to leave. She taped the huge envelope down, and walked to the post office the next morning and had it stamped, one day before the deadline.
It might takes months to see that money.
