Chapter 5
"All together, that's 828 thousand dollars," I said.
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
"And what about my mom? What has she gotten after twenty years?" I asked. "A house with peeling paint, a ten-year-old couch, and a twenty-year-old washing machine," I continued.
"When I was in college, my dad told me the family was struggling and that I needed to work my way through school. That same year, he bought his mistress a 100 thousand dollars car," I said.
"And now you want my mom to be the bigger person? To just let it go?" I asked. "Aunt, it's easy for you to say when you're not the one suffering. Or do you really think my mom had this coming?"
"I... I didn't mean it like that..." she stammered.
"Then what did you mean?" I pressed.
She was at a loss for words on the other end of the line.
"I just... I just think divorce isn't good for anyone," she finally said.
"Not good for anyone?" I repeated.
I let out a bitter laugh.
"It's great for my dad. He can finally marry his mistress without any shame," I said.
"And it's great for that woman too. She waited eight years, and now she's finally the official wife," I added.
"The only one it's bad for is my mom," I said.
"So you're telling my mom to just suffer in silence, so my dad and his mistress can have it easy, right?" I snapped.
"What's with your attitude?" she retorted.
"Because I can't take it anymore," I shot back. My voice was getting louder.
"Eight years! Eight years! My mom has endured this for eight whole years!" I shouted. "And you guys? Where were you when my dad was having an affair?"
"All you ever do is tell my mom to keep quiet and endure it. Why don't you ever tell my dad to stop messing around?" I snapped.
"Men will be men..." she tried to justify.
"So just because he's a man, he gets to cheat? He gets to keep a mistress? He gets to spend 828 thousand dollars on her and then throw his wife out with nothing?" I fired back.
"Come on, it's the 21st century. Who still believes that crap?" I snapped.
I hung up the phone.
Mom was right there, not saying a word.
"You don't have to listen to them, Mom," I said.
"I know," she said. Her voice was calm.
"I've always known," she said.
"This family has never had my back," she added.
"Then why did you stay?" I asked.
"I put up with it for eight years, but not because they told me to," Mom replied.
She looked right at me.
"It was all for you," she said softly. "Now that you're grown up, I don't have to endure it anymore."
There was something in her eyes I'd never seen before.
It wasn't anger, and it wasn't sadness. It was relief.
It was the weekend, and Dad was actually home for once.
He sat in the living room, his face gloomy and stormy.
"There's something I need to tell you both," he said.
Mom and I sat across from him.
"Go ahead," Mom said.
"I..." Dad muttered.
He hesitated, then said, "She's pregnant."
The air froze.
I was speechless. Mom was too. Then, she smiled.
It wasn't a bitter smile. She genuinely smiled.
"Congrats," Mom said.
Dad's expression darkened.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.
"I said, congrats," Mom answered.
She sounded almost cheerful.
"You've been supporting her for eight years, and now she finally got pregnant for you. Isn't that worth celebrating?" Mom said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"You..." Dad stammered.
"What? Am I supposed to cry? Throw a tantrum? Or go all dramatic and threaten to end it all?" Mom shot back.
She stood up.
"Reuben, I've endured you for eight years. Eight years, I knew everything and never said a word," Mom said. "You really think I'm clueless?"
"You think I don't know exactly how much money you transfer to her every month?" she pressed. "You think I don't know you bought her the car and the house?"
Dad's expression twisted with anger.
"I endured eight years for you. Now that you're grown up, I don't have to put up with it anymore," Mom said.
"You want a divorce? Go ahead," she said.
"But don't even think about throwing me out penniless," she added.
"You..." Dad stammered.
"This house? We bought it after we got married. I'm entitled to part of it. That car? It's marital property. That means it's partly mine too. By law, half of everything you've earned over the years is mine," Mom said.
"And the 828 thousand dollars you spent on her? Legally, that's our money. Shared assets. If you want a divorce, fine. But we'll split everything by the book," Mom said.
Dad shot to his feet, his face flushed with rage.
"You wouldn't dare!" he shouted.
"Why not?" Mom shot back. Her voice was completely steady.
"I endured you for eight years, not because I was afraid of you, but because I didn't want to mess things up for our kid," Mom said. "Now that you're grown up, there's nothing left for me to be afraid of anymore."
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Dad barked.
Dad suddenly exploded, his voice echoing through the room.
"You'd be nothing without me!" he shouted.
"Oh, really?" Mom shot back.
A faint smirk played at the corner of her lips.
"Let's see, then," she said, her tone calm but unyielding.
"After the divorce, we'll see who ends up better off," she added.