Chapter 2
The photo sent successfully, and the "typing" indicator at the top of the chat window kept blinking for a long time.
A few minutes later, Andrew sent a voice message.
I tapped the voice message and pressed my phone to my ear.
[Charlotte, who are you trying to scare with this divorce talk?] His voice was full of mockery.
[You are threatening divorce because I did not pick up your mom? Are you trying to control me?
Andrew continued: [That will not work. If you do not come home tonight, do not expect me to make it easy tomorrow.]
Then a text appeared: [Lily has a follow-up appointment tomorrow. I will be busy, so think it through yourself.]
Looking at those words, I didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore.
He was always like this, absolutely certain I'd never leave and convinced that whenever I resisted, I was only waiting for him to coax me into backing down.
I didn't bother replying. I turned off my phone and tossed it into the drawer.
I slept soundly that night.
I didn't have to listen to Andrew hammering away at his keyboard in the middle of the night or my mother-in-law deliberately banging pots and pans at dawn.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of my mom's oatmeal.
"Charlie, come have breakfast," my mom called, carrying a plate of toast out of the kitchen. She looked a bit nervous.
"It smells wonderful," I said, eating the oatmeal.
She kept glancing at me, and finally couldn't help asking, "You and Drew, are you really okay?"
"It's fine, Mom." I looked up and gave her a smile. "I've decided to get a divorce."
My mom's hand stopped mid-air, chopsticks in hand, and her eyes filled with tears.
"Is this because of me? If I hadn't insisted on coming for the holiday, " she said, her voice trembling.
"It's not your fault," I cut her off, squeezing her hand. "I just can't keep going like this. Mom, I'm tired."
She looked at me, and tears started to fall.
She didn't try to persuade me to stay, didn't give me the usual "every couple fights and makes up" speech.
Instead, she squeezed my hand and nodded firmly. "Alright, you don't have to put up with it anymore. I'll support you."
After breakfast, I turned on my phone.
My messages were dead quiet, Andrew hadn't messaged me at all.
A social media notification popped up.
I tapped it open, it was a post Lily had put up in the middle of the night.
Her post read: [Andy says the air feels fresher when someone unimportant leaves. Goodnight, and happy Christmas!]
In the photo, she was sitting on the couch in my silk pajamas, a glass of red wine in her hand.
In the background, Andrew was facing away from the camera, pouring himself a glass of water in the kitchen.
I looked at the photo for a moment, then gave it a like.
Then I called Ryan Foster, who had been ahead of me in college and was now a lawyer.
"Ryan, I need to talk to you about splitting assets in a divorce," I said, getting straight to the point.
Ryan paused for a moment, then his tone turned professional. "Go ahead."
I gave Ryan the full rundown of everything Andrew and I owned.
We'd been married for six months. The house and car were both bought outright by Andrew before we got married.
The money we saved for a second down payment totaled about 167,000 dollars and sat in Andrew's account.
"If you go for an uncontested divorce, you'll split that money down the middle," Ryan said.
"What if we can't agree?" I asked.
"Then it depends on whether he's trying to shift any assets around," Ryan replied. "Charlotte, keep an eye out for anything unusual with that account."
After hanging up, I sat down at my laptop and started pulling together all the household expenses from the past six months.
Andrew was a generous man.
Of course, that generosity extended only to himself, his mother, and Lily.
Whenever it was about me, he'd just make empty promises: "Now that we're married, my money is yours. Why bother saving?"
But every time I bought myself a new outfit, my mother-in-law would always throw shade my way.
When Lily wanted a bag costing several thousand dollars, Andrew paid without blinking.
I printed out all the household expense records and slipped them into a manila envelope.
Later that afternoon, my mother-in-law called.
"Charlotte, where the hell have you been?" Her voice was so sharp it made my ears ring.
"The laundry's piling up like a mountain, and you're still not back to deal with it? What, do you think you're some pampered princess now?" she continued.
I held the phone away from my ear, keeping my voice steady. "Mrs. Bennett, Andrew and I are getting a divorce. From now on, you'll have to handle your own laundry."
"What did you call me?" she screeched. "You rude little thing! You're lucky my son ever wanted you, and you dare bring up divorce?"
"If it's such a blessing, then let someone else have it," I replied.
"Don't act all high and mighty! If you don't come back today, don't even think about stepping foot in this house again!" she snapped.
"Fine," I replied.
Without another word, I hung up.
That night, I found a place online and put down a deposit.
Tomorrow was Monday, and I had to go to work.
Life keeps moving, and I don't have the luxury to mope around.
But I never expected Andrew's patience to be so pitifully thin.