Chapter 1 · The Stay‑at‑Home Mom's Divorce Battle

Chapter 1

While I was ironing Zachary Flynn's shirt, a receipt slipped out of the pocket.

It was from a jewelry store, for a purchase of $6,200.

Our wedding anniversary had just passed.

He'd told me the company was having a tough time and asked me not to buy any gifts this year.

I hadn't received anything from him either.

What was this receipt for?

I shoved the receipt back into his pocket.

Just then, I overheard Zachary talking on the phone on the balcony.

"Leila hasn't worked in six years. No way the court gives her much.

"Don't worry. I had someone check. None of the valuable assets are under her name."

He lowered his voice and chuckled, "Once this is all settled, we'll go on vacation."

I turned off the iron and folded the shirt with care.

My hands were steady, and my heart stayed calm.

For six years, I ironed every single one of his shirts until not a single wrinkle remained.

Now, I was gonna iron out this marriage for good.

*****

The balcony door opened, and Zachary walked in, still wearing the smile from his phone call.

When he saw me standing by the ironing board, his smile faded as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Diana's asleep?" he asked.

I replied, "Just got her down."

He nodded and sat down on the couch, crossing his legs.

I hung up the freshly ironed shirts on the rack.

In six years, I'd ironed over a thousand shirts: white, blue, gray, all of them.

"Leila," Zachary suddenly called, his tone all business. "Sit down. There's something we need to discuss."

I sat down across from him.

He pulled a document out of his briefcase and slid it across the coffee table.

"It's the divorce agreement. I had my lawyer draw it up. Take a look," he said.

The document had three pages in total.

I flipped to the second page, the section on asset division.

It read: [Since Leila Jenkins had no stable income during the marriage and cannot show she made any major contributions to the family's assets, the house, the car, and the company shares will all remain with Zachary Flynn. Leila Jenkins will receive $30,000 in compensation.]

$30,000 for six years? That broke down to $5,000 a year, around $13.60 a day.

That was less than what one'd pay a temp.

"It was more than fair." Zachary leaned back on the couch. "Think about it. You haven't worked a single day in six years. I paid for the house, bought the car, and built the company from scratch."

He paused. "30,000 dollars should tide you over."

I stared at him, not saying a word.

Zachary continued, "Diana's staying with me. My mom will help take care of her. Honestly, she'll have a much better life with us than with you.

"If you try to find a job now, you'd be lucky to make 3,000 tops. How are you going to take care of Diana with that?"

The shirts on the coffee table were still giving off steam.

I looked down at the scar between my thumb and index finger on my right hand.

It came from scalding steam three years ago. Now it had faded to a faint scar.

"I'll think about it," I said.

Zachary stood up, brushing off his pants. "No rush. You have three days."

He walked into the bedroom, and the door closed behind him.

I sat on the couch, picked up the agreement, and went over every word carefully.

Then I unlocked my phone and messaged Yvonne. [Can you help me book an appointment at that family law firm you mentioned last time?]

Yvonne replied almost instantly: [Tomorrow at 2 PM. I'll come myself.]

*****

The next day at noon, Zachary's mom, Selena, arrived.

She didn't call ahead, just let herself in with her spare key.

I was serving Diana her lunch when I heard the door open.

I looked up and saw Selena change into her slippers and walk in.

She glanced at the simple meal on the table, the same as always.

"This is all you cooked?" she said with a hint of disdain.

I ignored her and quietly set Diana's plate in front of her.

"Zachary already told me." Selena sat down, folding her hands on the table. "I hope you've thought the divorce through."

I started. "I..."

"Besides," she cut me off, "for six years, you haven't acted like a proper lady of the house at all."

Diana was startled. She looked from me to Selena, then quietly put down her spoon.

"You're thirty-three already, and yet you have no job, no income, just staying home all day.

"Zachary's been supporting this whole family by himself. You think that's easy?" Selena scoffed.

Her voice was soft, but every word hit like a slap.

Seriously, who told me to quit my job anyway?

Six years ago, when Diana was a newborn, Zachary's company was growing fast. He was always away on business trips.

Selena said her back was too bad to handle a baby, and she didn't trust a nanny either.

Zachary held my hand and said, "Lala, why not leave your job for a few years and focus on Diana at home? Once she starts kindergarten, you can jump back into work. I'll support you."

He'd promised he'd support me.

I began, "It was Zachary who asked me to quit my job to—"

Selena slammed her hand on the table. "Just because he said that, you went along with it? Can't you think for yourself?

"You're too comfortable staying at home to get off your butt and do anything, aren't you?"

Diana started crying, scared by the sound of the table.

I picked her up and patted her back.

"I'm telling you," Selena said, standing up. "Zachary's only giving you 30,000 dollars for Diana's sake. If you're smart, you'll sign. Dragging this out helps no one."

She walked to the door, then turned back. "Diana will be better off with us. How much can you earn in a month? Don't ruin her future."

The door closed behind her.

Chapter 1

While I was ironing Zachary Flynn's shirt, a receipt slipped out of the pocket.

It was from a jewelry store, for a purchase of $6,200.

Our wedding anniversary had just passed.

He'd told me the company was having a tough time and asked me not to buy any gifts this year.

I hadn't received anything from him either.

What was this receipt for?

I shoved the receipt back into his pocket.

Just then, I overheard Zachary talking on the phone on the balcony.

"Leila hasn't worked in six years. No way the court gives her much.

"Don't worry. I had someone check. None of the valuable assets are under her name."

He lowered his voice and chuckled, "Once this is all settled, we'll go on vacation."

I turned off the iron and folded the shirt with care.

My hands were steady, and my heart stayed calm.

For six years, I ironed every single one of his shirts until not a single wrinkle remained.

Now, I was gonna iron out this marriage for good.

*****

The balcony door opened, and Zachary walked in, still wearing the smile from his phone call.

When he saw me standing by the ironing board, his smile faded as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Diana's asleep?" he asked.

I replied, "Just got her down."

He nodded and sat down on the couch, crossing his legs.

I hung up the freshly ironed shirts on the rack.

In six years, I'd ironed over a thousand shirts: white, blue, gray, all of them.

"Leila," Zachary suddenly called, his tone all business. "Sit down. There's something we need to discuss."

I sat down across from him.

He pulled a document out of his briefcase and slid it across the coffee table.

"It's the divorce agreement. I had my lawyer draw it up. Take a look," he said.

The document had three pages in total.

I flipped to the second page, the section on asset division.

$30,000 for six years? That broke down to $5,000 a year, around $13.60 a day.

That was less than what one'd pay a temp.

"It was more than fair." Zachary leaned back on the couch. "Think about it. You haven't worked a single day in six years. I paid for the house, bought the car, and built the company from scratch."

He paused. "30,000 dollars should tide you over."

I stared at him, not saying a word.

Zachary continued, "Diana's staying with me. My mom will help take care of her. Honestly, she'll have a much better life with us than with you.

"If you try to find a job now, you'd be lucky to make 3,000 tops. How are you going to take care of Diana with that?"

The shirts on the coffee table were still giving off steam.

I looked down at the scar between my thumb and index finger on my right hand.

It came from scalding steam three years ago. Now it had faded to a faint scar.

"I'll think about it," I said.

Zachary stood up, brushing off his pants. "No rush. You have three days."

He walked into the bedroom, and the door closed behind him.

I sat on the couch, picked up the agreement, and went over every word carefully.

Then I unlocked my phone and messaged Yvonne. [Can you help me book an appointment at that family law firm you mentioned last time?]

Yvonne replied almost instantly: [Tomorrow at 2 PM. I'll come myself.]

*****

The next day at noon, Zachary's mom, Selena, arrived.

She didn't call ahead, just let herself in with her spare key.

I was serving Diana her lunch when I heard the door open.

I looked up and saw Selena change into her slippers and walk in.

She glanced at the simple meal on the table, the same as always.

"This is all you cooked?" she said with a hint of disdain.

I ignored her and quietly set Diana's plate in front of her.

"Zachary already told me." Selena sat down, folding her hands on the table. "I hope you've thought the divorce through."

I started. "I..."

"Besides," she cut me off, "for six years, you haven't acted like a proper lady of the house at all."

Diana was startled. She looked from me to Selena, then quietly put down her spoon.

"You're thirty-three already, and yet you have no job, no income, just staying home all day.

"Zachary's been supporting this whole family by himself. You think that's easy?" Selena scoffed.

Her voice was soft, but every word hit like a slap.

Seriously, who told me to quit my job anyway?

Six years ago, when Diana was a newborn, Zachary's company was growing fast. He was always away on business trips.

Selena said her back was too bad to handle a baby, and she didn't trust a nanny either.

Zachary held my hand and said, "Lala, why not leave your job for a few years and focus on Diana at home? Once she starts kindergarten, you can jump back into work. I'll support you."

He'd promised he'd support me.

I began, "It was Zachary who asked me to quit my job to—"

Selena slammed her hand on the table. "Just because he said that, you went along with it? Can't you think for yourself?

"You're too comfortable staying at home to get off your butt and do anything, aren't you?"

Diana started crying, scared by the sound of the table.

I picked her up and patted her back.

"I'm telling you," Selena said, standing up. "Zachary's only giving you 30,000 dollars for Diana's sake. If you're smart, you'll sign. Dragging this out helps no one."

She walked to the door, then turned back. "Diana will be better off with us. How much can you earn in a month? Don't ruin her future."

The door closed behind her.