Chapter 2
"Rachel, you've always been like this. You never fight for anything. You take whatever people hand you and never ask for a penny more," Michael said.
He paused.
"As long as the money's enough, you'll say yes to anything," Michael added.
I stood up. "Michael, you were the one who crossed the line first," I said.
His neck tensed. "There was nothing out of line between me and Claire before this. My conscience is clear."
"Really?" I looked at him. "Bringing her breakfast every day isn't out of line? Giving her a ride back to her dorm after overtime isn't out of line?
"When a patient's family yelled at her and made her cry, you were the first to rush over and protect her, isn't that out of line?"
He didn't say a word.
"Claire knew you were married from day one, didn't she?" I pressed.
Silence.
Then he finally spoke. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you, but I really mean it with Claire. I don't want her to be judged or talked about behind her back. I want to be with her out in the open, no more secrets"
I nodded.
"Then sign it," I said.
I slid the divorce agreement across the table to him.
He picked up the pen, his hand hovering over the signature line.
He lingered for a few seconds, caught in the moment.
Then, he slowly wrote out "Michael," letter by letter, as if each stroke weighed a ton.
From the time I was seventeen until I turned twenty-eight, my life was intertwined with his for eleven years. We shared a desk for a year, dated for four, and were married for six.
And now, it was all over.
I gathered up the agreement.
"The city hall opens on Monday. I booked us a nine a.m. appointment," I said.
He gave a hum as reply.
I walked out of the bedroom with the agreement in hand. I didn't shed a single tear from beginning to end.
Three days after word of our divorce got out, Michael's mom, Linda Shaw, reached out to me.
She didn't come to my place. Instead, she had Michael pass along a message asking me to meet her at a café.
I showed up.
Linda Shaw was sitting in a private booth, a pot of coffee and two cups in front of her.
When she saw me walk in, she took her time pouring a cup of coffee and slid it over to me.
"Rachel, have a seat," she said.
I sat down.
"I heard you and Michael already signed the divorce agreement?" she asked.
"Yeah, we did," I replied.
She took a sip of her coffee.
Linda said, "Then I'll be blunt. Since you two have already made your decision, you should give back some of those assets, like the houses and cars."
I looked at her.
"The agreement says I get everything," I replied.
"I know," Linda said, setting her cup down. "But it still isn't right. When you married Michael, you didn't bring a cent of your own into the marriage.
"Michael has supported you all these years and paid for everything. Those houses and cars came from Michael's hard work. If you, a stay-at-home wife with no job, walk away with everything, what will people think?"
I kept a straight face. Still, I almost wanted to laugh.
"Ms. Linda, the down payment for the first house was the demolition payout my dad left me. The second house's renovation and the third house's full payment came from the money I made investing these past few years.
"As for the cars, the Porsche is mine, I bought it myself. The Mercedes is his, so I don't need it," I said.
Linda's cup froze mid-air.
"You invest? Since when did you get into investing?" she asked.
"That's not important," I replied.
She set her cup down, her voice changing, more sincere now.
Linda said, "Rachel, let me speak from the heart. I never really approved of your marriage to Michael. The way your family was, your dad, and the fact you didn't have a mom..."
I stood up.
"Ms. Linda, the agreement's already signed and protected by law. If you think it's not right, your son can always get a lawyer," I said.
Her face fell.
Linda said, "Rachel, don't think you can live off my son's money now that you're divorced. Let me tell you, Michael's chief now; he's got connections you can't even imagine.
"If you don't hand some of it back yourself, trust me, I've got plenty of ways to make you pay for it..."
"Make me what?" I shot back.
I stared her down, still standing.
She paused, then forced a smile. "I was saying, don't take it so seriously. Alright, you can go now. I'll think it over."
I picked up my bag.
"No need to think about it. The houses, cars, and stocks that are rightfully mine will stay with me," I said.
As I stepped out of the café, the sun was blazing.
I stood at the entrance, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the glare.
My phone buzzed. It was a message from Sophie Faye.
Sophie's message read: [Rae, I heard Michael's mom came to see you. She didn't give you a hard time, did she?]
I replied: [Nope.]
Sophie messaged again: [Are you pissed? Want me to clap back for you?]
I typed back: [No need. I'm never going to have anything to do with the Shaws ever again.]
After sending the message, I put my phone back in my bag and hailed a cab to the hospital.
I was heading in for a baby checkup.