Chapter 2

When Fernando said that, the last bit of doubt in my heart vanished. "Fernando, I make 3,000 dollars a month, and you expect me to shoulder all the daily costs for this family.

"I'm not asking for a piece of your house. I don't want to be the fool who drains all her savings to keep your life afloat."

I stood up, folded the printed sheet, and put it in my bag. "I'll have a lawyer draft the divorce agreement. You take your stuff, and I'll take mine. No one gets to take advantage of the other."

He stayed seated the whole time. By the time I got to the café door, I heard him say something behind me, but I didn't hear what it was, and I didn't look back.

*****

The day we did the divorce paperwork went off without a hitch. No fights over money. I didn't take a dime of Fernando's house, his car, or his savings. As for my savings, my clothes, and my books, he left them all alone.

No mess, no fuss.

The clerk of the courthouse asked, "Are you both sure about this?"

"Yes," I said.

"Yes," he said.

The clerk handed us the divorce decree, and I took mine. It was so thin that I almost got a paper cut.

Outside, sunlight spilled over the steps. Fernando stood beside me, and after a long pause, he said, "Maybe we should think it over again."

I said, "I thought it over before I came, and I've thought it over since I got here."

He sighed. "It won't be easy for you living alone."

Honestly, I almost wanted to laugh. According to his so-called plan, even with a ring on my finger, I would still be handling everything solo. The only real difference? There was someone else sleeping next to me.

"Goodbye," I said.

"Alright, then," he replied.

As I walked away, I thought, 'Four months of marriage didn't leave me with much. Only the thin divorce decree, that spreadsheet I printed out, and a lesson, not profound, but sobering enough to keep me awake.'

Doing the math with a living, breathing person wasn't scary. What was scary was when he didn't bother to put on an act for me.

I kept the divorce a secret for a whole week.

It wasn't that I was worried about my mom getting upset. I didn't want to deal with explaining it.

If I started, I'd have to mention that spreadsheet, then I'd have to break down Fernando's logic, and that would mean admitting I totally misjudged him from the start.

On the eighth day, my best friend, Kenna Smith, caught on. She asked me out for dinner, and when she noticed the ring was gone from my left ring finger, she paused mid-bite and asked what was up.

I laid it all out for her.

After I finished, she set down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "So, he wanted to use his salary to build up his own assets, and your salary to support him?"

"Pretty much," I replied.

"He's such a cunning bastard, and you were such an idiot."

"That's why I divorced him."

Kenna nodded and grabbed her fork again. "Good move. You barely spent a dime on him these past four months, right?"

"Nope. The whole marriage lasted only four months. He acted normal for the first two, and then started showing his true colors in the last two.

"I spent less than three thousand dollars on household stuff. Pretty cheap for the lesson I got."

Kenna nodded and then suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right. That thing I mentioned before, the TV adaptation of The Last Days of Avalon. They're officially in talks now."

I looked up. "Which studio?"

"Mercer Creative. The director of The Abyss, Andrew Mercer himself, personally asked for your story."

I picked up my beer and took a sip.

I guessed I should start from the beginning.

It was true that I worked as an editor at a publishing house, and I did make three thousand dollars a month. But I also had another identity. I was a web novelist who went by the pen name Gael Chapman.

Three years ago, I wrote The Last Days of Avalon. It did great when it was serialized online, and after it finished, the print edition sold over two million copies.

With royalties and all the licensing deals, I'd made about two and a half million dollars over the past three years.

All that money was in a separate account, and I'd never told anyone about it. Not Fernando, not my mom. Only Kenna knew. She was my literary agent, and she handled all the business negotiations for me.

I never told Fernando about it, but it wasn't like I was hiding it on purpose. I kept my writing life super low-key. None of my coworkers knew, and I'd never shown my face in public.

Gael Chapman was a name only readers recognized, but nobody knew what I actually looked like.

When I started dating Fernando, he asked about my income, and I told him I was an editor at a publishing house, making three thousand dollars a month. That wasn't a lie, but not the whole truth.

He never asked if I had any other sources of income.

He never really wondered about it.

Or maybe he didn't care. In his mind, I was an editor at a small publishing house, making three thousand dollars a month with thirty thousand dollars in savings. That was all he needed to know about me.

So, I let it go.

Looking back, I was honestly glad I kept my mouth shut.

Kenna finished her food and pulled out her phone to show me the contract outline. "Andrew is making a serious offer. They're putting four million dollars on the table for the rights, and you get a seventy percent cut.

"If the box office breaks three hundred million, you'll get a share of the profits too. But there's one condition."

I looked at her.

"He wants to meet you. He said he won't sign anything until he's had a real sit-down with you," Kenna continued.

I frowned. "No way."

"I know you hate revealing your identity, but this is a huge opportunity. You know Andrew's reputation. He never butchers the original story.

"And four million dollars for the rights? There are maybe only five companies in the whole industry that would consider that kind of money."

I didn't say anything.

Kenna put her phone away and gave me a look. "No rush. The meeting's not until next week, so you've got a few days to think it over. Oh, are you going to tell your mom about the divorce?"

"Maybe in a couple of days," I replied.

"Your ex-mother-in-law's probably going to be thrilled when she hears."

I chuckled.