Chapter 1

On Christmas afternoon, I spent hours cooking my mom's favorite pork rib stew, waiting for Andrew Bennett to bring her over from the station.

When he finally walked in, he tossed a bag of almost-expired snacks onto the dining table.

Andrew snapped, "Always rushing me? I said I would pick her up. My mom appeared unexpectedly. Was I supposed to leave her and run to the station?"

He had promised that for our first Christmas after the wedding, he would bring my mom to stay with us.

I stared at the expired snacks and heard laughter from the guest room, where his mother and childhood sweetheart were together.

Lily Cooper posted a picture, location-tagged right at my house. She was wearing my loungewear, cradling the pork rib stew I'd cooked all afternoon.

It wrote: [Thanks to Mrs. Bennett and Andy for bringing me over for the holiday. The soup is delicious!]

Andrew was the first to like the post and commented: [Have more. I made it especially for you.]

I calmly turned off the stove, ladled out my own bowl of soup, then went to my room to grab my documents. After that, I helped my mom, who was waiting at the gate, into the car.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to head back to my mom's place for the holiday, and maybe never come back at all.

*****

Andrew demanded, "Where did you go? Why haven't you changed the sheets in the guest room?"

His impatient voice came through the phone.

In the background, I heard Lily say sweetly, "Andy, I want an apple."

"Lily's staying over tonight, so get back here and make dinner. The soup's all gone." Andrew sounded blunt, not even trying to be polite.

"Buy ribs on your way back. Lily wants more. My mother liked your silk pajamas, so she gave them to Lily. Buy another pair."

Sitting in the back of the taxi, I watched the city blur past outside the window. My mom sat beside me, nervously clutching the eggs she'd brought from home, stealing glances at me.

"I'm not coming back," I said quietly into the phone, keeping my voice steady.

There was a brief pause on the other end.

Andrew's voice went cold. "Charlotte Evans, what are you upset about this time?"

"I'm not upset," I said quietly.

"You're just pissed because I didn't go pick up your mom, right?" he let out a mocking laugh. "Is this worth getting worked up about? My mother felt sick, so Lily took her to the hospital and they stopped by.

"Was I supposed to leave her to pick up yours?

"Your mom could take a cab. Do you really have to cause this drama during the holiday?"

Hearing him talk like that, I suddenly felt too drained to even argue.

My mom could've grabbed a cab.

But Andrew, you promised to bring my mom to our new home for our first Christmas.

For this meal, I was up at six in the morning, hunting for the best ribs at the market.

And you ditched her, then threw some nearly expired snacks on the table like that was supposed to make up for it.

"Andrew, was the soup any good?" I asked softly.

"What?" He sounded confused, not following my train of thought.

I asked again, "The bowl of soup you gave to Lily, was it any good?"

Andrew sounded annoyed. "It's just a bowl of soup. Why are you being so petty? Lily hardly ever comes over, what's the big deal if she had some?"

"It's nothing," I said, turning my gaze away from the window. "You guys enjoy it. I'm hanging up."

Andrew shouted, "Charlotte! If you dare not come back today, then don't even think about, "

I hung up and put my phone on silent.

The car fell silent.

Mom glanced at me. "Charlie, is Drew angry? Maybe we should go back. I can take a cab home."

Seeing her graying hair and eager-to-please expression, tears suddenly pricked my eyes.

"Mom, we're not going back," I said softly, squeezing her rough hand. "We're going home, our home."

The taxi pulled up in front of the old, run-down apartment building in the Old Southside.

This was where I grew up.

When I pushed the door open, a faint, familiar musty smell greeted me, something that felt like home, something that made me feel safe.

I rolled up my sleeves, whisked the farm-fresh eggs my mom had brought with her, then found half a pack of noodles in the fridge.

"Mom, how about egg noodles for dinner?" I called out to the living room.

"Sure, sure! Let me do it," she said, hurrying into the kitchen and snatching the spatula from my hand.

Watching her work at the stove, I leaned against the doorframe and suddenly realized how absurd the past six months of marriage had been.

Andrew came from a wealthy family and had a prestigious career. Everyone said I'd married way above my station.

I tried so hard to be a good wife. I put up with his spoiled attitude, his picky mom, and his childhood sweetheart, who never knew how to respect boundaries.

I thought if I kept backing down, maybe he'd actually care about me.

But today, staring at that bag of almost-expired snacks with the crooked label, it finally hit me.

The noodles were served, steam curling up from the bowl.

As I picked at my noodles, my phone kept lighting up and dimming on the table, Andrew's calls just wouldn't stop.

I didn't answer.

After dinner, I washed the dishes and made sure my mom was settled in for the night.

Back in my old room, I sat down at my desk and pulled out a pen and paper from my bag.

I wrote: [Divorce Settlement Agreement.]

Just as I finished writing the title, Andrew sent me a message. [Charlotte, that's enough. My mom and Lily are both here, don't make me look bad.]

[You've got half an hour. Get your ass back here and make dinner.

Staring at the screen, I calmly snapped a photo of the half-finished divorce settlement agreement and sent it to him.