Chapter 6
The door to the assessment room opened, and the nurse called out Jennie's name.
Anthony immediately helped her up, and together they walked in, step by step.
The door closed behind them, shutting them off from the rest of the world.
I stood up, my legs tingling from sitting so long. I took one last look at that closed door, then turned and walked away.
At the hospital entrance, the cold air filled my lungs. I took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
*****
I pulled out my phone, powered it up, and dialed the number I'd saved last night. "Hi, is this BrightPath Law Firm? I need some advice about getting a divorce."
Parker Carter picked up, his voice efficient and steady with no extra emotion.
After I gave him a brief, almost numb summary of what happened, he asked only a few key questions: how we handled pre-marital assets, proof of joint mortgage payments, records of any big transfers, and whether Anthony had admitted to any of it.
"Mrs. Johnson, your situation involves some serious deception in the marriage and actions that could impact your rights as a spouse. Evidence is everything. If you can, it'd be best for you to come by the office soon so we can talk it all through in person," Parker said.
I glanced out the hotel window at the dull gray sky and said, "Yeah, I'll come by," my voice flat as the weather outside.
After I hung up, a few new messages popped up on my screen. This time, they were from Anthony's mom, Olivia Johnson.
[Zora, what's going on? Anthony was bawling on the phone, saying you want a divorce. Couples fight, but you two can get past everything. Come home, okay? Let me cook something nice for you, and we'll sit down and talk it through.]
[Anthony's got a soft spot, and sometimes he doesn't think things through. As his wife, you need to cut him some slack. I know a bit about Jennie. It's tragic, but you can't let someone die, right? Anthony didn't have much of a choice.]
[Come back, alright? I know you're hurting, but if you come home, we can all sit down as a family and sort things out together.]
I stared at the words [as a family] on the screen, and my stomach twisted. [Cut him some slack], [didn't have much of a choice], and [as a family]. These were the same old excuses.
For three years, every time Anthony messed up over Jennie, such as dropping everything to rush to her when she called, sending her money behind my back, or secretly holding onto her old things, his parents would always give me the same speech.
They felt sorry for their son, thought he was being loyal, and expected me, as his wife, to be the bigger person, like it was my job to be generous and understanding.
I used to believe all that. I thought loving someone meant accepting their past and embracing the kindness he claimed to have.
Looking back now, I realized all my tolerance enabled their whole family's selfishness.
I didn't bother replying. I turned on Do Not Disturb and left it at that.
I packed up my stuff and headed downstairs to check out.
The girl at the front desk took my keycard and gave me a couple of extra glances, probably because I looked terrible.
I forced a weak smile to acknowledge her.
As I stepped out of the hotel, the cold wind slapped my face, blasting me with dust and grit. I hugged my coat tighter and stood at the edge of the street.
Where was I supposed to go now? My appointment at the law firm wasn't until the afternoon. I'd lied to my parents last night, saying I had to work late, but that excuse wouldn't hold up for long.
After a moment's hesitation, I raised my hand and flagged down a cab. "Maple Grove Residences," I said.
The name slipped out, almost foreign to my own ears. That so-called home Anthony and I once shared.
It wasn't about getting sentimental, and it definitely wasn't about crawling back.
Parker said evidence was everything. There were some things I absolutely had to go back and grab.
And besides, my own stuff was still there. My clothes, my books, all those bits and pieces I'd slowly gathered over the years, and the traces of what I once tried to call home.