Chapter 2

The next morning, David packed his suitcase and headed out.

He said, "Honey, I'm leaving. Call me if you need anything."

I replied, "Okay."

He tried to kiss me.

I moved my head aside.

David asked, "What's wrong?"

I replied, "I feel tired lately."

He shrugged it off, grabbed his suitcase, and walked out.

As soon as his car disappeared down the street, I called Emily.

Her name was Emily Lane, and she'd been a divorce lawyer for ten years.

I asked, "Emily, are you free today?"

She replied, "What's up?"

I said, "I need to ask you something."

She said, "Come over. I don't have any cases this afternoon."

I left Sophie with the neighbor next door. She lived in our building, had helped me out a few times before, and was reliably trustworthy.

She asked, "Mrs. Warren, are you heading out?"

I replied, "Yeah, something urgent came up."

She said, "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her."

I replied, "Thanks."

At two in the afternoon, I arrived at Emily's law firm.

She saw how pale I looked and pulled me into her office.

Emily said, "What's wrong? You look awful."

I handed her my phone.

She took one look, and her brows knitted together.

She asked, "What's this?"

I said quietly, "It's David's other phone."

She asked, "And this woman, who is she?"

I replied, "I don't know. Probably his mistress."

Emily scrolled up, her face growing darker with every message.

She muttered, "Damn it."

Emily was always so composed; she seldom swore.

Emily trailed off, "So, you're saying that on the day you gave birth, he was..."

I said, "He was at another hospital, staying by her side as she gave birth."

Emily looked at me, silent for a long time.

She asked, "So, what do you wanna do about it?"

"Divorce," I replied, without a second thought.

I added, "Divorce. I want him to leave without a single dollar to his name."

Emily nodded and said, "Alright. Let me tell you what you need to get ready."

For the next hour, she gave me a crash course. It covered bank transfers, chat logs, hotel records, screenshots of everything, and recordings of every conversation.

Everything he owns, including houses, cars, bank accounts, and all the assets under his name, is at stake, and I have to figure out how to get custody of the kids.

Emily asked, "How long have you been married?"

I replied, "Three years."

"Whose name is the house in?"

"It's in his name. He bought it before we got married."

"And the car?"

"It's also in his name. He bought it after we got married."

"Do you have any joint assets?"

"Do savings count as joint assets? I have his salary card, and there are about ten million dollars in it."

"Is ten million dollars all from his salary?"

"Yeah, he makes over sixteen thousand dollars a month. I handle it for him."

Emily thought for a moment.

She said, "Any income earned during the marriage counts as marital joint property. And if you can prove he cheated during the marriage and fathered a child outside, you can seek damages."

I asked, "So, how much are we talking about?"

Emily replied, "It depends on the circumstances. It can range from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars."

I gave a nod.

"And," Emily looked at me, "you need to brace yourself for what's ahead."

I asked, "What do you mean?"

She replied, "He might not agree to the divorce."

I couldn't help but laugh, a little bitterly.

I said, "Doesn't matter if he agrees or not. I'm divorcing him either way."

Emily gave me a look, a bit of pride and relief in her eyes.

Emily said, "Alright. Let's start gathering evidence. Tomorrow, when he goes to that one-month celebration, you follow him there. You can take photos and record videos. All of it will count as evidence."

I gave a small nod.

Emily warned, "And don't tip him off yet. Does he know you found out?"

I replied, "Pretty sure he doesn't. I put the phone right back where I found it."

She said, "Good. Play it cool and act as if nothing happened. We make our move once we have everything we need."

By the time I left Emily's office, it was already 5 p.m.

On my way home, I got a WhatsApp message from David. [I have arrived in Ridgemont. Got a work dinner tonight.]

I replied, [Okay.]

He asked, [How's Sophie?]

I answered, [She's fine. Sleeping now.]

He added, [That's good. Get some rest.]

I stared at the screen, and a question rose to my lips. Where exactly did you go?

But I held back.

Emily was right.

I couldn't tip him off.

Tomorrow, I was going to see for myself what his so-called business trip was.

When I got home, I picked Sophie up from the neighbor.

She was sound asleep, her cheeks rosy and warm.

I held her close, sitting on the couch for a long time.

"Sophie," I whispered, "Mommy will always protect you. No matter what happens, Mommy will always protect you."

She seemed to understand, smiling in her sleep.

I did not sleep well again that night.

One thought circled through my mind on repeat.

David's mom.

In the chat logs, the mistress wrote that his mom wanted 38 tables.

What does that mean? My mother-in-law knew about her. She did more than know. She also helped organize the one-month celebration.

I've been married to David for three years.

When Sophie turned one month old, my mother-in-law said to keep things low-key because of the pandemic.

How low-key was it?

She didn't throw a party at all.

She said, "We would make it up to Sophie when the pandemic passed, and the baby turned one."

At the time, I thought it made sense.

But now I see the truth.

His mistress's baby gets a lavish one-month celebration with 38 tables at a luxury hotel, while my daughter got nothing.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Tears slid down from the corners of my eyes.

David, you truly outdid yourself.

And your mom, too. You are both something else.