Chapter 1
The night Andrew Collins went on stage with his first love to accept an award, I was at the bank, signing the final statement.
The account manager slid the document across the table to me and asked again, just to be sure.
"Ms. Lane, are you absolutely sure you won't sign off on the loan guarantee for Mr. Collins' company?"
I glanced down at the wedding ring on my ring finger.
After three years of wearing it, Andrew's name engraved inside was now barely readable, almost worn away.
My phone buzzed on the table.
It was Andrew's transferring notification. A total 5,200 dollars.
The notification was followed by a message:
Stop fussing.
I stared at those two words for a few seconds, then I chose to send the money right back.
I slipped off my ring and placed it beside the statement, drawing a line under everything.
"I'm sure," I said, my voice steady.
"I'm done being his woman."
"And I'm done carrying his debt."
*****
When I got my divorce certificate, Andrew wasn't there.
He sent his assistant to deliver the household registration and ID copies, along with a bouquet of flowers.
The assistant lingered awkwardly at the entrance of the registry office.
"Mrs. Collins, Mr. Collins has a really important award event today and just couldn't make it," the assistant said.
I took the folder but left the flowers behind.
The assistant added, "Mr. Collins said you should take a couple of days to cool off, and if there's anything to talk about, you can discuss it at home."
I looked at him.
"We're already divorced," I said.
The assistant froze for a second, then quickly corrected himself.
"Ms. Lane," he said.
That sounded nicer than I thought it would.
I slipped the divorce certificate into my bag and headed for the parking lot.
The assistant followed me quickly.
"Ms. Lane, do you want the flowers?" he asked.
"Just toss them," I replied.
He just stood there, silent.
I then drove myself to the bank.
The loan renewal paperwork for Andrew's company had been dragging on for two weeks, all they needed was my signature as the guarantor.
For the past three years, whenever his company needed extra documents, the bank would always come to me first.
Andrew never had the patience for financial reports.
Nina was clueless when it came to the numbers.
Finance would just shoot me the spreadsheets and expect me to break down the numbers for them.
I used to think that a couple in a marriage didn't have to keep score.
But later I realized, it always turns into something people think you're supposed to do, no questions asked.
The account manager, Mr. Carter, had worked with me plenty of times before.
When he saw me walk in alone, he looked surprised.
"Mr. Collins isn't with you?" he asked.
"He's not coming," I said.
Mr. Carter seemed to understand and didn't press further.
He laid out the loan renewal contract, the maximum guarantee agreement, and the joint repayment promise on the table.
"Ms. Lane, based on the current documents, renewing the original loan amount shouldn't be a problem. But if you're not going to keep providing the guarantee, we'll have to reassess," Mr. Carter said.
"Go ahead and reassess," I replied, my tone calm and unwavering.
Mr. Carter looked up at me.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I'm sure," I said, my voice steady.
He paused for a moment, then pulled out another document.
"Then please sign this. It's a statement saying you won't be personally liable as a guarantor for any future loans, extensions, or renewals for Andrew or his company," he said.
I picked up the pen.
As I was signing, my phone buzzed again.
Andrew was calling.
But I refused to pick up.
Half a minute later, he sent me a text.
Andrew: Did you get the divorce certificate?
I didn't reply.
He then sent another message.
Andrew: [Come to the award ceremony tonight. Don't embarrassed yourself.]
I finished signing and handed the document back.
Mr. Carter glanced at my phone and lowered his voice, "Ms. Lane, do you want to think it over one more time? If we go ahead with the reassessment, Mr. Collins might be in for some real headaches."
"That's his problem," I replied.
I slipped the wedding ring off my finger.
A faint red band was left around my skin, marking where it had pressed for so long.
Only after removing it did I realize how much it had been constricting me, both my finger and my life.
"Mr. Carter, from now on, I'm only responsible for my own risks," I said.