Chapter 2
The hotel near the airport was charging 130 dollars a night.
That was way too steep for me, so I parked myself in the lobby and spent another ten minutes searching.
Eventually, I found a windowless room.
70 dollars.
Not exactly a good number, but my wallet sure felt blessed.
The front desk clerk asked, "Are you sure you don't want a window?"
"No," I said.
What I needed right now wasn't a window.
It was cash.
The 0.6 million for treatment covered only the first phase.
Accommodation, check-ups, and the flight home? Those all cost extra.
So when the lawyer called, I laid it out straight.
"Divorce? Sure. But I'm not walking away empty-handed," I said.
The lawyer was caught off guard. "Mr. Ford says you're only divorcing him for the money."
"He's got that right," I replied.
Why would I say no to money that was mine?
The lawyer paused for a moment. "And what about your feelings?"
I gave it some serious thought. "Consider it a bonus."
Charles was good to me once, too.
For the first couple of years after Emily left, he was so afraid I'd leave that he even dragged me along on his business trips.
When I had a fever in the middle of the night, he carried me on his back for two blocks.
When the company was struggling, I'd help him fix his proposals, and he'd end up sleeping with his head in my lap.
Back then, I thought if I played the stand-in long enough, maybe I'd finally become the real thing.
But when Emily came back, I realized that was never going to happen.
A bonus was always just a bonus.
When the original returned, the stand-in had to step aside.
Out of nowhere, the doorbell rang.
The hotel staff stood outside, holding ninety-nine roses.
There was a card nestled among the flowers.
[Come back when you're done sulking.]
Underneath, there was another note.
[Emily's craving your homemade spaghetti.]
I checked the price on my phone.
This bouquet cost 777 dollars.
That could cover ten nights in my windowless room.
I asked, "Can I get a refund for these?"
The staffer just blinked at me, totally caught off guard. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
I shrugged. "Alright, then just drop them off at the front desk for me."
As soon as the hotel staff left, Charles's video call popped up.
Emily was sitting on the master bedroom bed, wearing my pajamas.
The Divorce Roulette Wheel was still sitting right there on the nightstand.
Emily smiled, her eyes sparkling as she teased, "Grace, aren't these flowers gorgeous?"
I said, "They're pricey."
Emily said, "Charles picked them out himself."
I replied, "That just makes them even more expensive."
Charles came up behind her and grabbed the phone. "Don't get all snarky.
"I sent you flowers and gave you a way out. What more do you want?"
"Divorce," I said.
Charles stared at her for a couple of seconds, then suddenly let out a laugh. "So, is this your way of getting me to toss Emily out?"
"No," I replied.
"So it's all about the money, huh?" Charles said.
"Yeah," I answered.
Charles relaxed when I admitted it so quickly.
"I've already canceled your credit card," Charles said. "Staying out costs thousands a night. Let's see how long you can hold out."
I glanced down at my 70-dollar booking.
Charles's sense of prices was clearly stuck in the world of the rich.
"How much do you have left?" Charles asked.
"Quite a bit," I replied.
"0.3 million?" he pressed.
"A little more than that," I said.
0.6 million dollars.
But after paying for the treatment, I'd only have 10,000 dollars left.
Charles didn't take it seriously.
He thought I was talking about the Ford family's money.
"Come back tomorrow, and I'll bump up your allowance," Charles said. "Emily gets the master bedroom; you get the guest room.
"About the Divorce Roulette Wheel? It was just a joke."
I finally spoke up, "Was that just a joke too, when you told me to get out?"
"Of course," Charles said.
That was the first time he ever told me straight up that he was just kidding.
But I was already out the door.
And the hotel wouldn't let me cancel for free.
"Then why didn't you say so earlier?" I asked.
Charles frowned. "Any normal person would know."
So that was what he thought.
Too bad I was not one of those normal people.
He saw I wasn't saying anything and got impatient.
"Be back by tomorrow night," he said. "Otherwise, don't even think about coming back to the Ford family ever."
I made sure one last time. "Forever?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Okay," I replied.
I hung up and handed the signed divorce papers to the courier.
Right after, my phone buzzed with a payment alert. [Cross-border medical fee: 600,000 dollars.]
My balance was down to just 11,200 dollars.
It stung a little.
But the doctor said that once I was cured, I would finally be able to tell when someone was just kidding.
Next time someone tells me to get out, maybe I would ask, "So, should I grab a cab, or just walk out?"
Honestly, that sounded pretty convenient.
On the day of my flight, I stopped by the airport medical clinic to pick up a refill of my meds.
"Does your family know you're going abroad for treatment?" the nurse asked.
"No," I replied.
"What about your husband?" the nurse asked.
"He knows I'm going abroad," I said.
"Does he know you're getting treatment?" the nurse asked.
"No," I replied.
The nurse went quiet.
I knew it sounded pretty strange.
After seven years together, he never knew what illness I had, what I was saving up for, or why I always followed his orders.
But he remembered Emily hated scallions.
So I guessed he was not totally hopeless after all.
The nurse handed me the medicine.
"You've been off your meds for too long. You might get heart palpitations or feel nauseous," she said. "Why didn't you bring your medicine with you?"
"Charles told me to leave it behind," I replied.
The nurse looked at me like she was staring at a lunatic.
She nailed it.
I was messed up in the head.
On my phone, the betting game Michael started was still going strong.
Everyone was taking guesses about when I'd return to the Ford family.
Emily bet I'd be back this morning.
Michael put his money on noon.
Charles bet I'd show up at 6 PM tonight.
I typed "never" into the chat box, paused, then deleted it.
Nobody even bothered to set odds for that.
No point.
Charles quickly sent me a photo.
The Divorce Roulette Wheel was set up right on the dining table.
The options had changed again.
[Come back to the Ford family.]
[Cook for Emily.]
[Say sorry to Charles.]
Basically, all three meant the same thing.
Guess he thought this way, I couldn't mess it up.
He added a note under the photo. [Be back before six. Last chance.]
I glanced at my boarding pass.
My flight took off at six too. Talk about bad timing.
I texted him back: [Won't make it.]
Charles called me right away. "Where are you?"
"At the airport," I replied.
"Still putting on a show?" he said.
"No," I said.
"Grace, if you really get on that plane, don't ever come back," he said.
Just then, the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal.
I made sure one last time. "Are you sure?"
Charles sounded annoyed.
"Yeah," he said. "Go ahead and board. And don't ever come back."
"Okay," I replied.
I hung up and powered off my phone.
Right before I boarded, I looked back.
Nobody tried to stop me.
That was exactly what I wanted.
The cab ride to the airport cost me 23 dollars. If he'd stopped me, that money would've gone down the drain.
Meanwhile, Charles put his phone down and went back to eating with Emily.
Michael glanced at the clock. "It's six already. Why isn't Grace back yet?"
Emily spun the pointer, grinning. "Maybe she really did get on that plane."
Charles picked up some food with his fork. "No way she'd actually do it.
"She doesn't have a job, and she's so tight with money. Where else could she go if she left the Ford family?"
Just then, the doorbell rang.
The courier dropped off a document.
Charles opened it, saw the divorce papers, and couldn't help but laugh. "She really thought of everything."
Michael leaned over. "Grace really went all in this time. She even got herself a lawyer."
"She's just after the money." Charles tossed the divorce papers next to the Divorce Roulette Wheel. "When she's out of cash, she'll come running back."
Just then, Charles's assistant called.
"Mr. Ford, Grace's old place was sold six months ago," the assistant reported.
Charles froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. "What'd she sell the house for?"
"She sent the money to some hospital overseas," the assistant replied.
"How much?" Charles pressed.
"0.6 million dollars," the assistant answered.
The table went quiet for a few seconds.
Emily was the first to start laughing. "Is Grace really just faking it?"
Charles leaned back in his chair.
"She's always been healthy," Charles said. "What illness could she possibly have?"
The assistant didn't respond and just said, "Also, Mrs. Ford's flight has already taken off."
Charles glanced up at the clock on the wall.
6:08.
"One-way or round-trip?" Charles asked.
"One-way," the assistant replied.
Charles's face finally changed.
Just then, the doorbell rang again.
A middle-aged man with glasses stood outside, holding my medical records and the diagnosis report that had once been thrown away.
Lily asked, "Who are you looking for?"
The man glanced over at Charles in the living room.
"I'm Grace's attending physician," he said. "Before Mrs. Ford left the country, she removed you as her emergency contact.
"But there are some things you ought to know."
Charles stayed seated.
He glanced at the Divorce Roulette Wheel, still looking totally unfazed.
"Is she making you play along with her drama again?" he asked.
The doctor opened the medical records and pulled out a page covered in instructions.
"Mr. Ford, can I ask you something first?" the doctor said. "Have you told her anything lately that might have pressured her to do something?"
The doctor's finger paused at the first forbidden instruction.
When Charles caught sight of the words "compulsive obedience response" in the medical records, his face drained of all color.