Chapter 2

I pushed Grace's hand aside and turned to Edward. "The documents are ruined," I said.

He finally glanced down at the mess, but his tone was still the same. "Just print them again. It's not like the kid did it on purpose."

I stared at him, not saying a word for a long moment.

Then I gave a cold, bitter smile, picked up the soggy case files, and turned to leave.

As I was heading out, Edward followed me.

"Let me drive you," he said.

"No need," I replied.

"Connie."

I stood by the elevator, pressed the down button, and looked up at him.

"Edward, am I supposed to put up with all this in your eyes?" I asked.

He froze for a moment.

I looked at his handsome, always-in-control face, like he was Mr. Perfect, never messing up. I almost laughed.

I said, "You ignore my calls, bring your ex home, let her crash in our bed, and wreck my case files. And all you say is, 'The kid didn't mean it,' like that's supposed to fix everything?

"You bend over backwards for her, but when it comes to me? Is it because I'm your wife that you think I'll stick around no matter what you do?"

The elevator doors slid open.

Edward reached out to block them, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"That's not what I meant," he said.

"Then what do you mean?" I pressed.

I looked at him, my voice barely above a whisper. "So what is it? Are you playing the good guy for her? Or are you still hung up on her, but pretending you can keep it together?

"Or maybe you don't even know what you want? You just can't let go of the one you never had, and the second she shows up needing help, you turn into a pathetic doormat?"

His face darkened. "Connie, don't be so harsh."

"Harsh? Really?" I shot back.

I patted the front of his suit. "When you see me bringing my ex into our home, then you can teach me what 'harsh' really means."

I brushed Edward's hand off and stepped into the elevator.

As the doors slid shut, I caught one last glimpse of him standing there, looking absolutely furious.

I thought things couldn't get any crazier.

But reality proved me wrong. Once a guy let the boundaries slip, the drama kept spiraling out of control.

*****

On the third day, Grace made a post. The photo showed our dining table, loaded with imported fruit Edward had bought, and a stick-figure drawing Tommy made of a family of three.

She only wrote one sentence. [Some people go around in circles, but in the end, they always end up right where they started.]

Grace didn't block me. She didn't block any of our mutual friends, either.

That afternoon, I was in a meeting at the firm, and my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Friends kept texting me, wanting the scoop.

Some were subtle, some were straight-up blunt.

[Connie, is this woman trying to provoke you?]

[Is your husband out of his mind? How can you put up with this?]

And then there was my snarkiest friend, who sent me a message.

[So, the divorce lawyer finally gets to be the star of her own divorce drama?]

I stared at that post for over ten seconds, feeling my blood boil, then snapped a screenshot and sent it straight to Edward.

Me: [Delete it.]

He replied five minutes later. [I'll tell her to take it down.]

I stared at those words, and the anger inside me slowly faded away.

The scariest thing about a man wasn't when he stood up for someone else easily.

It was when he had already hurt someone, but still acted like it was no big deal.

By the time I got home from work, the post was gone.

Grace was sitting on the living room carpet, helping Tommy build with blocks. When she saw me walk in, she scrambled to her feet.

She said, "Connie, I really didn't mean to. I didn't realize it would make people think the wrong thing. Eddie already said something to me."

As she spoke, her eyes started to well up.

I set my bag down and nodded.

I said, "If you know it could cause misunderstandings, then don't post it next time. Because when you post something like that, I'm the one who gets embarrassed. Not you."

She bit her lip and whispered, "I know you don't like me."

I stared at her. "You're wrong. It's not that I don't like you. I look down on you."

The living room went dead silent for a moment.

Tommy looked up, his eyes wide with confusion, darting between us.

All the color drained from Grace's face.

Right then, the door swung open and Edward walked in.

He picked up on the tension right away, his eyes flicking from me to Grace, whose eyes were red from crying.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Grace shook her head quickly. "It's nothing. I said something I shouldn't have."

I almost laughed out loud. She was really good at acting innocent.

She never said I was bullying her. She just kept saying she was the one at fault.

But the more she acted like that, the more everyone else would think I was the unreasonable one.

Sure enough, Edward's gaze turned cold as he looked at me.

"Connie, she just got back, and she's not doing well. Don't keep picking on her," he said.

I paused mid-motion as I was taking off my coat.

Then I turned to look at him. "Me? I'm the one picking on her now?"

"Grace didn't mean to move in," he said.

"So I'm just supposed to be understanding?"

"She's having a hard time right now."

I let out a slow, cold laugh. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Edward frowned. "When did you get so mean?"

Right then, it felt like a knife twisted in my chest.

Three years of marriage, and I'd always had his back, through his company's worst days, his dad's hospital stays, his grandma's surgery, endless business dinners, and every mess he left behind. I was always the one covering for him.

I spent my days knee-deep in divorce cases, but I still chose to believe in marriage, in him, in the idea that what was done was done.

And now, Edward was sticking up for Grace, acting like I was suddenly the villain for being "mean."

I looked at him and gave a slow nod.

I said, "Fine. Since you think I'm mean, I'll show you just how ruthless I can be."

I pulled out a bank card from my bag and tossed it onto the coffee table.

I said, "Everything she's eaten, used, or stayed here, bill it like a hotel. If you want to play the saint, do it with your own money, not ours. Send the cash to this card by tomorrow.

"Otherwise, I'll treat it as you giving her freebies out of our marriage funds, and don't blame me when I start counting every dollar you spend on her."

Edward froze.

Grace's face went pale.

She definitely never saw it coming. I didn't break down or make a scene. I just started keeping score.

I was a lawyer. I might not always win a fight, but when it came to settling accounts, I always came out on top.

That night, for the first time, Edward didn't argue back.

He stood there, watching as I put the bank card away, his voice a little hoarse.

"Is it really necessary?" he asked.

I looked at him. "Absolutely. You should've known this was coming the day you brought her into our home."

*****

Over the next week, I got a front-row seat to what it really means to push your luck.

Grace started going on about how the hotel bed was too soft, and Tommy couldn't sleep.

The very next day, Edward wasted no time and had a kid's bed delivered straight into our master bedroom.

Then Grace started whining about how hard it was to find a job now that she was back, and how her resume had a gap.

Edward immediately had her resume sent over to one of his company's partner brands.

Next, Grace brought up how she didn't have a car since she had just gotten back, and how inconvenient it was to get Tommy around.

So Edward handed over the keys to his spare Mercedes, like it was nothing.

I only found out when I noticed the car keys were missing from the shoe cabinet and asked about it.

In that moment, I couldn't even be bothered to get angry anymore.

I stood there in the entryway and asked Edward calmly, "Have you noticed? Every time you help her, she takes it for granted and pushes her luck a little further?"

Edward paused mid-motion as he was taking off his suit jacket.

"You're overthinking it," he said.

"Really?" I gave a mocking smile and stooped to swap out my shoes. "Just wait and see."

The women who really knew how to work a man's guilt weren't evil or dumb. They knew exactly how to play weak, never pushing too far, always staying just inside the lines.

Grace never asked for everything all at once. She only took a little bit each time.

A bit of his bed, a bit of his time, a bit of his money, a bit of her place in the household.

By the time he finally woke up, she had already made herself at home in his life. And the one who opened the door for her was Edward.

*****

On the eighth day, I got a call from the Clark family estate. Edward's grandma, Rosemary Beltran, was turning eighty, and they were throwing a family dinner that weekend.

Ever since I married Edward, his grandma had always liked me best.

It wasn't because I knew how to butter people up. It was because I never pretended to be someone I wasn't.

Rosemary was a tough cookie back in her day, and she couldn't stand all that crying and scheming.

So when I got that call, I actually thought this dinner might finally give me a chance to breathe.