“Okay,” I said simply.
He frowned, clearly taken aback. “That’s it?
No fight? No begging?”
I shrugged. “What’s the point?”
For a second, he looked confused, like I had taken the wind out of his sails.
He was expecting resistance, expecting me to plead with him to stay.
But I just needed to give him enough rope to hang himself with.
The divorce negotiations were as awful as I expected. We sat across from each other in a sterile conference room, lawyers flanking us, as Mike outlined every little thing he wanted. The house, the car, the savings; it was like he was reading off a grocery list.
And the entire time, he had this smug little grin on his face, like he thought I’d break down and cry at any moment.
“Fine,” I said, barely listening.
“You can have it all.”
My lawyer shot me a look, one that clearly said, “Are you sure?” But I just nodded.
Mike blinked. “Wait, what?”
“I said, you can have it. I don’t want any of it, except for my personal possessions.”
He looked stunned.
“You… you don’t want the house? Or the money?”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It’s all yours.”
His shock quickly morphed into glee.
“Great. Then take this afternoon to pack up your belongings. It’s not much, so that should be plenty of time.” Mike glanced at his watch.
“I’ll expect you to be out by six.”
“No problem,” I replied.
He sat up straighter, his chest puffing out like he’d just won the lottery. And I let him think it.
And that brings me back to that moment when I stepped into the elevator in the lawyer’s office building, and couldn’t contain my laughter anymore.
As I stepped out of the elevator, I pulled out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a second before I typed out a quick message: I’m heading to the house to pack up my things.
I’ll call you when it’s time to make your move.
I hit send and smiled. Time for the real fun to begin.
Packing up the house was easier than I thought it would be. I didn’t want much, just a few personal things, mostly items that held memories that weren’t tainted by Mike.
The house was too big for just the two of us anyway, and it always felt more like his house than mine.
I was taping up the last box when I picked up the phone to make the call. My mom, Barbara, answered on the second ring.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice light. “It’s time.”
There was a pause, and then Mom’s familiar, no-nonsense tone came through.
“Finally. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
Mom couldn’t stand Mike. She saw right through his flashy facade the day I introduced them.
But the best part? She had helped us buy this house. She was the reason Mike thought he had scored such a great deal on it, and now she was going to be the reason he lost it.
I hung up, feeling a strange sense of relief as I looked around.
I was done pretending.
The next morning, I was making breakfast in my new little apartment when my phone rang. I smirked as Mike’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hello?” I answered sweetly.
“You set me up!” Mike’s voice was furious, practically frothing at the mouth.
I put the phone on speaker, grabbing a piece of toast as I leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“Your mother!” he spat.
“She’s… she’s in my house! She’s taken over everything!”
“Oh, right,” I said, biting into my toast. “Remember that agreement we signed when she gave us the down payment?
The one that lets her live there whenever she wants, for as long as she wants?”
There was a long pause, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. I could imagine the look on his face, realization dawning.
He had signed that paper years ago, too blinded by the allure of a fancy house to even think twice about the fine print.
“You! You cheated me!
This isn’t over. I’m getting my lawyers—”
Before he could finish, I heard Mom’s voice in the background, sharp and cutting through the phone. “Michael, you better get your feet off that coffee table!
And stop hogging the remote!”
There was a muffled sound as if Mike had turned away from the phone, trying to whisper. “Barbara, this is my house—”
“Oh, hush,” Mom interrupted, louder now. “It’s my house just as much as yours.
And another thing, what’s with all these cheap snacks? Do you know how to grocery shop? I’m not living off frozen dinners!”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
Mike mumbled something incoherent, his frustration barely contained, but before he could get another word in, I heard her again.
“And turn down that TV! You think I want to listen to that nonsense all day? If you’re going to watch those ridiculous car shows, at least mute it!”
There was a loud crash, followed by some more muttering, and then the phone clicked off abruptly.
I took a deep breath, smiling as I sat down at the table.
Freedom never tasted so sweet.
