Chapter 4
I paused. "Yes."
I'd seen the share transfer documents when I was helping him organize background information on his Moretov clients.
Calvin thought all I could do was take care of the kids.
But he forgot that I'd seen all the company's earliest contracts, quotes, and client emails.
I was the one who set up the way files were organized for him.
He kicked me out of the company, but he couldn't take my brain with him.
Zoe told me, "Don't lay your cards on the table yet.
"First, put together the bank transfer records, joint loan payment slips, proof you helped with the company in the early days, and any timeline of suspicious asset transfers."
"Got it," I said.
After hanging up, I booted up my laptop.
I still remembered the password to my work email, that account I hadn't touched in six years.
Inside, there was a ton of old emails.
There were contracts Calvin sent me back when he was launching his business.
Clients had sent me thank-you notes.
There were records of me stepping in for him at online meetings.
And there came the screenshots of him saying, "I couldn't have closed this deal without you."
I downloaded them one by one.
At one in the morning, Calvin pushed the door open and walked in.
"Still up?" he asked.
I closed my laptop.
"Just organizing some stuff," I said.
He gave me a quick look. "What are you up to now?"
"I'm working on the divorce papers," I replied.
His expression turned icy in an instant. "Sylvie, are you serious about this?"
"What else would I be?" I shot back.
He stepped up to me, his voice low and cold. "I gave you the house you live in, the car you drive, the credit cards you use.
"How are you going to take care of the kids after the divorce?"
I stared at him. "First off, the house was bought after we got married.
"Second, the car's in the company's name.
"And finally, I'm not leaving empty-handed."
He looked at me like I'd told a joke.
"What makes you think you deserve any of that?" he sneered.
I said, "I gave you a child.
"I was there when your company was getting off the ground.
"I helped run the company in its early days.
"And you transferred assets during our marriage."
Calvin's face changed. "Who told you that?"
I couldn't help but smile. "So I was right after all."
Calvin fixed his gaze on me.
Right then, all my fear of him vanished.
I used to be scared of him because I'd staked my whole life on him.
But I realized he had more to lose than I did.
He was afraid of losing money, of losing face, of his company going under.
And he was afraid I'd stop listening to him.
What made me pack up and leave was the second time Mike put me down.
That night, Aurora was throwing shade at me across the dinner table.
She snorted, "Someone has it too easy and doesn't know her place.
"She thinks guys will be lining up for her if she gets divorced."
I didn't say anything.
Mike was sitting next to me, sneaking peeks at translations on his tablet.
He thought I hadn't noticed.
After a bit, he suddenly tried to say something in Rokerish, stumbling over the words.
His pronunciation was off.
But I understood him.
He said, "My mom is useless."
The table went quiet for a second.
Aurora pretended not to hear and kept helping herself to food.
Calvin frowned and didn't say anything to him.
I put down my fork.
"Who taught you that?" I asked.
Mike lifted his chin. "I looked it up myself."
"Why did you say that?" I asked.
He mumbled under his breath, "Grandma said you're useless."
Aurora's face changed in an instant.
"When did I ever say that? Don't make things up, kid," she snapped.
Mike flinched and didn't dare say another word.
I stood up.
I didn't yell at him.
I didn't cry.
I went to the storage room and pulled out a suitcase.
I opened my closet and started packing my clothes, one by one.
They were not the ones Calvin liked.
They were not the ones Aurora said I should wear because "moms need to dress more conservatively."
They were the dresses, blouses, and earrings I'd bought but never dared to wear.
Calvin followed me into the bedroom.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm moving out," I said.
He blocked the doorway. "You're pregnant. Why are you acting up?"
I pulled the zipper shut on my suitcase.
"I've booked a hotel," I said. "I'm not asking for your permission."
Aurora stood in the doorway, her voice shrill. "If you walk out that door today, don't think about coming back."
I looked at her. "I never planned on coming back to wait on you guys anyway."
Mike was standing in the hallway, still clutching his tablet.
When he saw me with my suitcase, he finally started to panic.
"Mom, where are you going?" he asked.
I said, 'I'm going somewhere where no one will insult me in a foreign language."
His eye turned red. "I won't say that anymore."
I looked at him.
He was still so young.
He was too young to realize that an apology wasn't some magic button to make me stay.
But he wasn't that innocent anymore.
He was old enough to use translation apps to find words that hurt, but wouldn't say "I'm sorry, Mom" in Hupolish.
I crouched down in front of him.
This time, I didn't hug him.
I told him softly, "Mike, it's not that I don't want you.
"It's just that I can't keep living in a house where everyone thinks it's okay to treat me badly."
Mike started to cry.
"What will I do now?" he asked.
That question stabbed me in the heart.
Whenever he asked me that before, I'd always put myself last.
But today, I held back.
"You've got your dad and your grandma," I said.
"But they won't teach me Moretorian," Mike said.
I gave a small smile. "So what you want isn't your mom.
"You just want someone to teach you for nothing."
He froze. "What?"
I grabbed my suitcase and walked out.
It wasn't until the elevator doors slid shut that my tears fell.
It wasn't because of regret.
It was because of pain.
It hurt, like ripping out something that had become part of me.