Chapter 3

After hanging up, I stood in the hallway for five minutes.

Tate told me, "Start putting together a detailed list of all our marital assets: property deeds, car registrations, bank statements. The more thorough, the better."

Tate also said, "If you have any evidence of your husband's wrongdoing, make sure you hang on to it."

Evidence.

I thought of that shoebox, those letters, and all the little things I'd chosen to ignore over the past three years.

I took a deep breath and turned back into the hospital room.

For the next three days, I showed up at the hospital at 8 a.m. and didn't leave until 9 p.m.

I fed David, wiped him down, helped him with the bedpan, changed his dressings, and talked to the doctors.

David's back wound was deep, and he couldn't turn over by himself. He needed help with everything.

I did everything carefully, never complaining once.

He seemed pretty satisfied.

The next afternoon, Claire showed up again.

She was carrying a basket of fruit and a bouquet. When she saw me feeding David, she stood frozen for a second. "It must be exhausting to take care of an injured patient, huh?"

"It's no trouble," I replied.

She walked in, put the flowers in the vase by the bed, and sat down on the other side. "David, you look a lot better today."

"Yeah, Mandy's been taking good care of me," David replied.

I couldn't believe he actually called me Mandy right in front of Claire.

At home, he never called me Amanda. It was always 'hey' or 'Amanda.'

I kept my head down, quietly gathering up the dishes, not saying a word.

Claire and David started chatting about their college days: club activities, graduation trips, all that stuff.

I was wiping the table, listening to them talk.

"Do you remember that New Year's Day when you set up those heart-shaped candles for me on the school field?" Claire said with a smile.

David laughed too. "Yeah, I remember. We almost set the whole lawn on fire."

"You were so romantic back then."

"Now I'm not young anymore."

They laughed together, totally caught up in the moment.

Once I finished wiping the table, I straightened up and said, "I'll go wash the dishes. You two keep talking."

As I walked out, I heard Claire quietly say. "Your wife really treats you well."

David replied, "That's how she is. She puts up with everything."

He thought so, huh?

So that was all I was to him.

I stood outside the hospital room, clutching the lunchbox so hard that my knuckles turned white.

On the third night, I finally got home.

I waited until David was asleep before leaving, so I got home at 9:30.

I didn't bother to rest. I opened my laptop and logged into our online bank account.

I had the password for our shared account. He gave it to me when we got married.

I went through the bank statement, checking every single transaction.

Every month, there was a regular transfer of 1,600 dollars, all going to Claire.

It had been going on since last March, one and a half years straight.

That was 28,800 dollars in total.

I kept scrolling through the transactions.

Last October, there was a 10,000-dollar transfer with the note "airfare."

This January, another 6,000 dollars, marked "rent."

This March, 16,000 dollars, no note at all.

Altogether, that was 60,800 dollars.

I saved all the screenshots and sent them to my own email.

Then I opened the desk drawer in his study.

The property deed was buried at the bottom.

The house was bought after we got married, under both our names, and we'd been paying the mortgage together.

I snapped some pictures with my phone.

The car was his before we got married, so I didn't want it.

I checked every account: savings, investments, insurance, one by one.

By the time I finished, it was already 1 a.m.

I sat in the study chair, staring at the numbers on the computer screen.

In three years of marriage, he'd secretly spent 60,800 dollars on another woman.

And me? I'd agonize over buying a dress that cost only 160 dollars.

On the fourth day, I went to the hospital as usual.

Jenny was there too.

She was sitting in the hospital room, watching me change David's bandages. Suddenly, she spoke up, "Amanda, thank you for taking care of him alone these past few days."

"It's nothing," I said.

"David's pretty badly hurt. He's going to need someone to take care of him for a while."

"I know."

Jenny paused for a moment. "Can you take a long leave from work?"

"I already did."

"That's good." Then she added, "There's something else I want to talk to you about."

"Go ahead."

"Claire's been really shaken up by what happened with her ex-boyfriend. It's not safe for her to live alone right now. I was thinking she could crash at your place for a few days."

I froze, my hands still in mid-air.

David glanced up at Jenny. "Mom, I don't think that's a good idea."

She waved it off. "What's the problem? Amanda's not the kind to get petty about things, right, Amanda?"

I looked at Jenny, then at David.

David said his objection softly, but his eyes didn't really mean it.

He was waiting to see how I'd respond.

They were both waiting for me to say okay.

Because I was the one who "put up with everything."

I gave a small smile. "Let me think about it."

Jenny's smile froze for a second. "What's there to think about? It's just a few days."

"Let me think about it," I said again, not changing my tone.

Jenny glanced at David, then fell silent.

That night, when I got home, I sent Tate an email with all the screenshots and photos attached.

At the end of the email, I wrote: [I want to fight for everything that's rightfully mine, and I won't settle for less.]