Chapter 1

While filing retirement paperwork for my supposedly unemployed wife, I made a shocking discovery.

She had been working the entire time.

Her monthly salary of three thousand dollars was tucked away in a private account. Every single penny had been wired out on the exact same day each month, leaving nothing behind.

I had never seen a cent of that money. Years ago, when our daughter was in critical condition and we were two hundred dollars short for her surgery, I was pushed to the absolute brink. I sold plasma and begged on my knees just to keep our child alive.

Wendy never once offered to help. She gave me a few hollow words of comfort, and the very next morning, she wired three thousand dollars to her first love.

Our thirty-year marriage was nothing but a sickening joke.

I printed out the divorce papers and laid them flat on the table, staring at her in cold silence.

"Are you seriously doing this?" Wendy snapped, her face twisted with annoyance. "It is just three grand a month. You make over two hundred thousand a year, so why the hell do you care about pocket change?"

"Harrison is miserable," she continued defensively. "He broke his leg for me back in the day and never got married. He has no one to look after him in his old age. What is so wrong with me sending him a little support?"

Even our daughter, Maya, jumped in to take her side, glaring at me like I was a monster.

"Everyone has a high school sweetheart, Dad," Maya said with a scoff. "Daddy Harrison has held back for decades without crossing the line. You should be grateful."

Her words hit me like a physical blow.

It took me thirty years to realize that in this house, I was the only outsider.

"Getting a divorce might actually be for the best," Wendy added self-righteously. "Harrison is getting older, and I want to take care of him until the end."

She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at me.

"As compensation for my youth, the house, the cars, and the savings belong to me. You walk away with nothing."

1.

When I first confronted Wendy, she looked guilty. But that guilt quickly turned into defiance, until she finally threw all pretense out the window.

"I never stopped loving Harrison," she confessed shamelessly. "I love him so much it drives me crazy."

"He never begged me for money. I gave it to him willingly. If you want to throw a tantrum, aim it at me and leave him out of it."

My heart bled.

The love I had defended with my life was nothing more than a pathetic solo performance.

Maya chimed in again, rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Dad, take a deep breath. You are practically halfway into the grave, so why make a scene about divorce?"

"Nobody stays completely faithful these days anyway. It is normal to have a wandering eye. Besides, Mom kept things clean. If she and Uncle Harrison actually wanted to be together, you never would have had a chance in the first place."

She spoke with righteous indignation. There was genuine confusion on her face, as if she truly could not grasp why I was furious.

Did she really not understand?

Back when keeping food on the table was a daily battle, I was the one breaking my back.

I had to feed four mouths, support my wife and child, and pay off the mortgage. I pinched every single penny until it screamed.

During the hardest stretch, I begged Wendy to find a job.

She threw a massive fit, screaming and crying, even dragging our daughter up to the roof to threaten me.

"You useless loser! If you cannot provide, you might as well drop dead!"

"I did not marry you to live in poverty! If I knew you were this pathetic, I would have run away with Harrison years ago!"

She used her life to hold me hostage, and I had no choice but to back down.

I worked three jobs a day, taking dangerous shifts in heavy industrial plants. I crushed two of my fingers in a drill press just to bring home a paycheck.

Yet today, I found out none of that suffering was necessary.

Wendy had a lucrative career. She was a well-known freelance digital artist and illustrator, making good money since thirty years ago.

I treated her like my world, while she guarded her wealth against me like I was a thief.

Looking at those bank statements, my soul turned to ash.

She pitied Harrison's struggles, but remained completely blind to the blood and sweat I shed for our family.

"What is the point of bringing up ancient history?" Wendy sneered, her voice icy. "I hid the transfers because I knew you would get jealous and throw a fit. I did it to keep the peace."

"That is my money. I can give it to whoever I want, and you have no right to question me."

She looked down at me from above, her eyes full of disgust.

"What do you have to feel wronged about? Were you not the stray dog begging on his knees to marry me back then?"

She stepped forward and slapped me hard across the face.

"Go look in the mirror, Caleb. You are old, plain, and out of shape."

"I swallowed my nausea and slept next to you for thirty years. I wanted to vomit every single morning. I have not even complained yet, so what makes you think you have the right to ask for a divorce?"

Her words pierced through me like poisoned daggers, and my vision blurred with tears.

"Whatever. Let us just drop this," Wendy sighed, offering a half-hearted attempt to smooth things over. "Harrison is moving back to town soon. When he gets here, I expect you to get along with him."

She softened her tone slightly, though her impatience was obvious.

"His health is failing, and he needs a place to settle down."

"You are great at taking care of people. From now on, you will be his caretaker."

She ordered me to clean out the master bedroom for Harrison and move my things into the damp basement.

"Out of sight, out of mind," she muttered under her breath. "Once Harrison is here, you have no value anyway. If you have any sense, you will drop dead soon, otherwise…"

I froze, the blood in my veins turning to ice.

Wendy used to be different.

Years ago, when I was hospitalized with severe internal bleeding from exhaustion, she stayed by my bedside all night.

Whenever I worked late, the porch light was always on, and a sleepy Wendy would wrap her arms around me the second I opened the door.

Those tiny fragments of past happiness had now become the most agonizing torture.

"Let us get divorced," I said quietly.

When I opened my eyes, the warmth was completely gone, replaced by dead, cold detachment.

"Love whoever you want. I do not give a damn anymore."

"This disgusting marriage should have ended decades ago."

Wendy turned pale, completely unprepared for my refusal to back down.

"Dad, you have lost your mind!" Maya shrieked, raising her hand to strike me.

"Abandoning your wife and daughter? How can you be so shameless!"

As her hand came down, Wendy made a half-hearted attempt to block her.

"Alright, Caleb, I know you are upset," Wendy said, putting on a sweet facade as she pulled out her phone.

A notification chimed on my cracked screen. She had transferred three hundred dollars to my account.

"Go buy that jacket you have been eyeing. Treat yourself for once."

Thirty years of marriage meant she knew every single preference of mine.

Yet hollow promises were Wendy's specialty.

She spent decades telling me I did not deserve nice things. She never bought me a single gift, and this was the very first time she had ever sent me money.

The living room fell dead silent.

Assuming I was appeased, Wendy tore the divorce papers in half and walked back into her bedroom.

Maya shot me a venomous glare before slamming the front door on her way out.

Outside, fireworks lit up the New Year sky.

I felt no warmth from the holiday. My heart felt submerged in freezing water, numb with pain.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my lawyer friend.

We finalized the plan in just a few short sentences.

"I want to file for a contested divorce."

"Yes. She committed infidelity, both before and during our marriage."