Chapter 3

After I said that, there was a deathly silence outside the door.

After about ten seconds, Margaret's scream erupted again, even more piercing than any time before.

She shouted, "Divorce? In your dream! You bitch! You ruined my son, and now you think you can just wipe your hands and leave? No way in hell!"

"Wanda, what do you mean by divorce?" Alex's voice had changed, no longer pleading but furious. "Just because of a plate of food? Just because I slapped you? You want a divorce? How can you be so ruthless?"

Ruthless?

I leaned against the door and let out a silent laugh.

Who was the real ruthless one here?

After three years together, I wasn't clueless about his family. Margaret was bossy, Brian was a total slacker, and Alex always played the peacemaker.

I kept telling myself that once we got married and had our own place, things would finally turn around.

To make him feel better, I even suggested my family cover most of the down payment for our new home, with both our names on the deed, just so he wouldn't feel embarrassed.

Before the wedding, Margaret insisted that, according to their hometown traditions, the betrothal gifts were just for show. All the wedding cash gifts had to be handed over to her for "safekeeping", supposedly for our "future kid".

Back then, Alex squeezed my hand and said, "Wanda, just do me this favor, okay? Let her take the cash gifts. From now on, I'll hand over my salary card to you, alright?"

When I saw the desperate look in his eyes, I gave in.

I thought this would be the last time I'd bend for love.

Turned out, it was only the beginning.

The day after our wedding, they couldn't wait to set their own family rules for me, trying to turn me into a free live-in maid—expected to slave away without a shred of respect or dignity.

And the man I'd loved for three years? Just to protect his so-called family dignity and rules, he didn't think twice before hitting me.

"Wanda, open the door! If you don't explain yourself today, nobody's getting out of here!" Alex was rattling the doorknob like crazy, and when he realized it was locked, he started kicking the door.

The loud thuds of his kicks echoed in the room.

"Alex," I said again, my voice cold as ice. "Kick that door one more time, and I'm dialing 911. I'll report you for hitting me and trying to lock me up."

The kicking outside stopped instantly.

"You... You wouldn't dare!" he shouted, trying to sound tough, but I could hear the fear in his voice.

"Try me," I shot back.

I grabbed my suitcase, ignored all the noise outside, and walked over to the window, peering down at the black Mercedes parked downstairs.

Elaine stopped texting to rush me. She just waited in silence.

I knew she was giving me time to make the final call myself.

I shot off a text to Alex.

Me: [You signed the prenup. First rule: if either of us lays a hand on the other and someone asks for a divorce, the guilty party has to cooperate, no questions asked, and walk away with nothing.]

Yep, the prenup.

Back then, Elaine insisted I sign it. She said marriage wasn't a business deal, but people were unpredictable, so a little extra protection never hurt.

Alex joked that Elaine was way too practical, saying our love was so solid that we'd never need something like that. But he still signed it, just to prove his "sincerity".

Now, that prenup was my ace in the hole.

After I sent the text, the outside went completely silent.

I could just imagine the mix of shock and disbelief on Alex's face when he read it.

After a long silence, his voice finally came through the door, muffled and full of panic.

He said, "Wanda, do you really have to be this ruthless? Three years together, and you're throwing it all away over something so trivial..."

"Something so trivial?" I cut him off. "Alex, in your eyes, is hitting your wife just a trivial thing?"

"That's not what I meant! I... I just lost my head for a second," he blurted out, desperate. "Just open the door, okay? Let's talk face-to-face. How are we supposed to work this out if you keep hiding in there?"

"There's nothing left to talk about," I said coldly. "Tomorrow at nine, see you at the city hall. If you show up, we'll end things cleanly. If you don't, I'll take it to court.

"And trust me, it won't be as simple as just walking away empty-handed."

With that, I blocked his number without a second thought.

Just like that, everything was finally peaceful.

I leaned against the window, gazing out at the sky. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the clouds were pure white.

It was only yesterday that we got married, but right now, it felt like it had happened in another lifetime.

I picked up my phone and started putting my plan into action.

First, I logged into my mobile banking app. We had a joint account. Alex suggested it, saying all our household expenses would go through there. My parents had just transferred a hefty sum into it yesterday as my dowry.

Without a second thought, I transferred every last cent from that account into my own personal account, leaving it completely empty.

Next, I reached into the hidden compartment of my suitcase and pulled out a document envelope.

Inside were the deed to this apartment, my household register, my ID, and the original signed prenup.

Both our names were on the deed, but my family covered most of the down payment, and I'd kept all the bank records to back it up.

Back when it was time to handle the paperwork for the deed, Alex said he was too busy with work and told me to go by myself. Looking back, it seemed that luck was really on my side.

I carefully placed the document envelope into my backpack.

After all that, I took one last look at this so-called "matrimonial home".

The wedding decorations were so ironic.

I grabbed my suitcase, walked to the door, and took one last deep breath.

Then I opened the door.