Chapter 8

Anthony pushed the door open and walked in. He froze in the entryway when he saw me, still clutching a supermarket bag filled with fresh fruit and vegetables.

He looked more haggard than yesterday, with a scruffy beard and deep-set eyes, but a flicker of hope and anxiety was there in his gaze.

"Zora, you're back." He hurriedly set the bag down, wanting to come over but hesitating. "I bought your favorite shrimp and strawberries. I'll start cooking right away, and we..."

His gaze fell on the bulging tote bag in my hand and the conspicuous gray document folder. The color drained from his face, and his voice caught in his throat. "What are you holding?"

I looked at him calmly and lifted the document folder in my hand. "What do you think this is, Anthony? The evidence is undeniable."

He staggered as if all his strength had left him, grabbing the shoe cabinet for support. "You know everything?"

His pitiful hope twisted into outrage, like I'd crossed a line he thought was his. "You went through my study? Zora‌, that's crossing the line. That's my privacy."

"Privacy?" I had to bite back a laugh. "Anthony, when you used our money to support your ex-wife, when you secretly got tested to donate a kidney to her, did you ever stop to think there's no such thing as privacy between husband and wife?

"And now you want to talk to me about privacy?"

He was speechless, his face flushed and pale by turns, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep it together.

"I told you I'd change. That was all in the past. Right now, the surgery is all that matters. Zora‌, I'm begging you. Please don't make things harder. Jennie has to check into the hospital tomorrow for pre-op. You can't only think about yourself," he said.

Here he said again. Selfish. To him, not going along with his self-sacrifice for his ex-wife meant I was selfish.

"Anthony," I cut him off, a chill in my voice that surprised me, cold and resolute. "I'm not here to argue or hear your excuses.

"I'm here to take what's mine and to let you know my lawyer will contact you soon about the divorce. As for the joint mortgage and the assets you messed with behind my back, we'll enforce my rights legally."

"A lawyer? You hired a lawyer?" He looked like he'd heard something terrifying, his eyes wide as he lunged at me, trying to grab my arm. "Zora, do you have to go this far?

"We've been married for three years. Can't you cut me some slack? Do you have to drag this into court and air our dirty laundry for everyone to see?"

I sidestepped, and his fingers only grazed my coat sleeve. "Slack?" I looked at him like he was a total stranger.

"Anthony, the moment you put Jennie's life above our marriage, the moment you spent five years pouring our money into her bottomless pit, all that's left between us is cold calculation. And as for being a laughingstock..." I paused, picked up my bag, and headed for the door.

"Anthony, which one of us is the real joke here?" I pulled the door open and glanced back one last time.

He stood frozen in the middle of the living room, his face ashen. Two strawberries rolled out of the shopping bag, so red they looked almost out of place, lying on the floor and seeming dirty.

"Oh, and one more thing," I said. "Your mom messaged me. Let her know she doesn't need to waste her breath trying to fix things anymore. You and your family can hold on tight to your kindness and loyalty. I'm done."

The door closed behind me, shutting out any sound he might have made, and completely severing me from the home I once thought would be my refuge.

The elevator descended. I leaned against the cold wall, holding my bag and the folder close to my chest. Inside were pieces of my past, the evidence, and my determination to cut everything off for good.

There would be no more anger, no more sharp pain, but only an empty calm, and beneath it, a cold, unyielding strength quietly growing inside me.

*****

When Parker met me that afternoon, he was surprised at how fast I'd pulled together all the evidence.

He flipped through the photos and paperwork, paying special attention to the five years' worth of money transfers. "This covers a long stretch, and the total amount isn't small. Plus, it all happened behind your back.

"So your rights to the marital assets took a serious hit. The surgery itself doesn't legally count as fault, but with all the secrecy and the money he's been funneling out, it's obvious he's totally broken his responsibilities as a husband.

"He lied to you and hurt you emotionally. All this gives us a strong case for getting you a fair share and damages when we split the assets."

He pushed up his glasses and looked at me. "Mrs. Johnson, are you sure you want to proceed with a lawsuit? If he's willing to cooperate, an amicable divorce would be much quicker."

I stared at the cold papers on the table, Anthony and Jennie's names side by side on every document. "I'm sure," I said. "He won't agree easily.

"He and his family will think I'm being unreasonable, getting in the way of his so-called good deeds. Fine, we'll take it to court. I won't let go of anything that's rightfully mine, and I won't carry any responsibility that doesn't belong to me."