Chapter 3
By the time I left the lawyer's office, it was already pitch black outside.
I made it home, fighting through the headache. As soon as I stepped inside, I saw an open suitcase sitting right in the middle of the living room.
Michael was putting shirts into it, while Olivia sat on the couch.
"You're back?" Michael looked up at me.
His voice was so calm that it was like nothing had happened.
He said, "Perfect timing. I need to talk to you.
"Olivia's always been in poor health, and that slap you gave her today made her old injury start acting up again.
"The doctor said she needs someone to take care of her. I'll stay with her for a few days."
I let out a bitter laugh. "You don't need to tell me anything. We're going through the divorce now. Live wherever you want. You don't owe me any explanations."
He let out an impatient sigh. "Abigail, don't be like this. I know you're upset today, but we can deal with our stuff later. Olivia needs me more than ever right now."
She needed you? Really?
Whenever he needed me, I was always there.
But whenever I needed him, he was always with someone else.
Was that fair? No. But marriage wasn't about fairness. It was about doing everything willingly, out of one's own choice.
I gave everything for eight years. Now, my heart was cold, and my feelings were gone.
"Fine," I said, turning and walking into the bedroom.
He probably thought I'd cry, throw a tantrum, or plead with him not to leave.
But I didn't.
I opened the closet and started gathering up his stuff.
When I found a photo, my hand froze.
Inside the frame was our wedding photo.
He was beaming, and my eyes sparkled with hope.
"Abigail, what are you doing?" Michael asked.
He followed me in, his voice finally showing a hint of panic.
"Aren't you leaving?"
I didn't even look back, kept throwing his stuff into the suitcase.
"I'm helping you pack, so you won't have to make another trip."
"I told you I'll just leave for a few days," he started.
"Then don't ever come back. Take your things and the one who needs you, and get lost," I said coldly.
Olivia showed up in the doorway.
"Michael, are you still coming with me to the cruise auction tonight? You said you'd get me that necklace," she said in a syrupy tone.
"Yeah," Michael answered instantly, not even sparing me a glance. "Whatever I promised you, I'll make it happen."
Hearing that, Olivia shot me a smug little smile. "Ms. Summers, I doubt you've ever set foot in a place that upscale, have you?
"Not that it's surprising. Those events are full of rules and etiquette. They're really not for someone as... blunt as you."
Michael turned to me, trying to justify himself. "Abigail, it's not that I don't want you there. It's just that those parties are all business. With everyone watching, you have to be careful with every word and move. I'm worried you might not fit in, and if you say the wrong thing, you could mess things up with big clients..."
I cut him off coldly. "Are you done?"
He froze.
I jabbed my finger at the door. "If you're done, then get out of my house!"
He replied, "Abigail, this is our..."
"No. This is my house. I cover all the life expenses. I bought every piece of furniture and appliance in here. What have you ever contributed, besides crashing here for eight years?" I shot back.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, he stayed silent, because I was telling the truth.
For eight years, the "living expenses" he gave me were 1,500 dollars a month, barely scraping by, enough for rent and the basics.
When I said it wasn't enough, he told me to cut back.
I did, but he was out there lavishing money on another woman, and he still dared to call her a friend?
His voice went icy. "Fine, I'm leaving. But don't come crawling back to me later."
"Get out!" I shouted.
The door slammed shut, and the room went quiet all of a sudden.
It was so quiet that I could hear the fridge humming and my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I slowly crouched down, wrapping my arms around my knees.
Tears dropped onto the floor one after another.
After a long time, my phone buzzed.
I picked it up. It was a photo sent from an unknown number.
On a hotel bed, Michael was sound asleep. Olivia pressed against his chest, flashing a victory sign at the camera.
Under the photo was a message: [Thanks for giving him to me.]
I stared at that picture for what felt like forever.
Then I replied, [Thank you as well.]
I thanked her for handing me the evidence.
The private investigator said Michael was too cautious. He never managed to catch him in a physical affair.
That would've made it much harder for me to fight for a bigger share of the assets in the divorce.
But now, I finally had the evidence I needed.