Chapter 2
The clerk asked, "Are you both sure about this?"
Stella cut me off before I could say a word, talking so fast it was like she was late for a train.
"I've thought it through. Crystal clear," she said.
She picked up the pen and signed the divorce papers without even blinking.
Her signature was quick and forceful, just like her.
When it was my turn to sign, my pen hovered over the paper.
Stella impatiently raised her eyebrow at me.
"Arturo Maynard," she called me by my full name, her voice had a bite to it.
"Quit stalling. You're getting a pretty sweet deal here," Stella said. "Isn't that enough for you?"
I kept my head down, not looking at her.
At last, I pressed the pen to the paper and, stroke by stroke, signed my name.
People used to always pair our names together, like we were inseparable.
We were the perfect couple.
Now, my name sat there on the paper, abandoned, like a forgotten punchline to a joke nobody laughs at anymore.
As we stepped out of the courthouse, the summer heat hit me like a wall.
Stella let out a long sigh of relief.
Her expression eased up a bit.
She pulled a bank card out of her expensive leather bag and handed it over, her tone casual, almost like she was tossing me a bone.
"Take it," she said. "There's 70,000 dollars on it. Think of it as the last bit of support you'll ever get from me."
She paused, her eyes sweeping over my faded, worn-out polo shirt.
"You're a grown man, cooped up at home all these years," Stella said. "You're totally out of touch with the real world now.
"Think getting a job is easy? Good luck with that."
She added, her words coming out fast, like she'd rehearsed them a hundred times, "The house is yours, and that old sedan too.
"I'm not taking anything.
"I'll deposit Jessica's child support onto this card every month.
"The PIN is your birthday."
With that, she shoved the card into my hand. Her fingertips were cold, and she pulled away the moment our skin touched.
Then, almost like she was reminding herself, she said, "Arturo."
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I really did my best."
I looked at her, saying nothing.
There wasn't a hint of reluctance or sentimentality in her eyes.
It was like she'd finally let go of a heavy burden.
I didn't take the card.
"No, thanks," I said.
Stella looked genuinely taken aback.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
She held the card out to me again. "Are you just being stubborn with me?"
"I'm not being stubborn," I said.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. "I told you, I don't need it."
I looked at her. "I don't want a single cent of your money."
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
I took a step forward.
"And Jessica is staying with me," I said, my voice calm. "You don't need to pay child support either."
Her face changed in an instant.
"Arturo," she snapped, her voice rising. "Don't take my kindness for granted."
Her grip on the card tightened, knuckles going white with frustration.
"If Jessica stays with me, she'll go to a top school and actually have a good life." Stella shot back.
She fixed me with a hard, unblinking stare. "With you? What do you have to offer her, really?"
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"I can give her a real home," I said.
The cicadas outside were screaming their heads off.
"Stella," I said, meeting her gaze. "Out of 365 days in a year, how many were you actually there for her?
"Do you even know what grade she's in? Which homeroom?
"Did you know she took first place in the city art contest, but she's terrified of water and won't even go near a pool?
"Do you remember she's allergic to shrimp? Last time your assistant ordered takeout with shrimp in it, I was the one carrying her to the ER at midnight."
With every question I asked, her shoulders drew back a little more.
Her lips parted, but she couldn't get a word out.
Not a single sound escaped her.
Everything I laid out was solid fact; she had no way to refute it.
She was a powerhouse in real estate, a vice president pulling in 1.3 million dollars a year, the kind of woman everyone envied.
But as a mother, she couldn't cut it; she completely fell short.
"The judge will give me custody," I said, my tone calm and unwavering.
"Don't worry. I won't let Jessica suffer, not even for a second," I promised.
Stella's cheeks flushed red, then went completely pale.
She'd never expected the gentle, soft-spoken man to hit her with words that cut so deep.
"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "Arturo, you're really something.
"Don't come crying to me when you regret this."
Her heels clicked sharply on the pavement as she marched straight toward her black Porsche, without a backward glance.
She slammed the car door, the sound exploding in the empty parking lot.
I stood there, watching the taillights disappear into the stream of cars. I didn't move for a long time.
Regret?