Chapter 7
The moment the call connected, Michael practically yelled into the phone.
"Emily, what the hell are you trying to do!"
He sounded desperate, completely thrown off and in total disbelief.
I held the phone a little further away, my voice calm as ever, not a hint of emotion.
"I'm not trying to do anything. I'm just taking back what's mine."
"What's yours?" Michael laughed as though he had heard the best joke of his life. "You shut off my card, you got your father to cut off the company, and you got me fired. That's what you call taking back what's yours?
"Emily, you're just plain vicious!"
I laughed, full of mockery.
"Vicious? Michael, don't you feel guilty saying that to me?
"When you were on your knees polishing another woman's shoes and telling her you'd already divorced me behind my back, why didn't you call yourself vicious then?"
The line went completely silent.
I could picture his face on the other end, white as paper.
He never in his wildest dreams thought I'd know all about his dirty little secret.
It took him a long time to find his voice, and when he did it came out dry and cracked.
"You saw all of it?"
"I did," I said slowly. "I saw it and I recorded it. High definition, clear audio, and you look very devoted down there on your knees."
His breathing turned heavy, like an animal with nothing left.
He asked, "When did you—"
"The night I landed," I said for him. "I was planning to surprise you, and you gave me a much bigger surprise.
"Michael, I owe you a thank you. If I hadn't heard you say you'd already divorced me, I might still be foolish enough to think you were only cheating.
"You made it clear that there's nothing left for us to discuss."
Michael was completely losing it.
The mask he was so proud of came apart, and every one of his calculations turned into a joke while I laid them out in a level voice.
He started rambling, desperate to explain himself.
"Emily, listen to me. None of that was real. I said it to keep her quiet. How could I ever divorce you? You're the one I love.
"It was nothing. Every man makes a mistake like this."
Listening to that same old cheater's excuse, I just felt disgusted.
"You love me?" I laughed. "Is love grinding my dignity into the floor?
"Is love spending my money while you work out how to turn everything I own into yours?
"Michael, put the cheap lines away. I've heard enough of them."
Every word was a knife, and each one landed where it hurt.
He fell silent, knowing any excuse was pointless now.
He switched tactics, trying to play the emotional card.
"Emily, are you really going to throw away five years just like that? Can't you give me one more chance?
"I know I messed up, I really get it now. Please, come back. Let's just talk, okay?"
"A chance?" I said. "I gave you more chances than I can count. Every time you lied and every night you didn't come home, I made excuses for you. And what did you do with them?
"You just used my trust as your excuse to do whatever you wanted.
"Michael, the moment you said you'd already divorced me, we were done.
"There's no chance left. Not ever."
With that, I was about to hang up.
On the other end, Michael seemed to sense what was coming and let out a desperate scream.
"Emily, don't push me!
"You think you covered everything? Don't forget we're still legally married. That house was yours before the wedding, but I'm entitled to half of whatever it gained in value while we were married.
"If you sell it behind my back, that's illegal! I'll take you to court!"
He finally dropped the act and showed the ugliest version of himself.
Threats and blackmail were all he had left, and that was the real Michael.
The smirk on my lips curled even higher.
I said, "Take me to court? Sure, I'll be right here waiting.
"But talk to a lawyer first. Forging divorce papers or attempting to move marital assets illegally. Ask him which one carries the heavier sentence.
"And I have high-definition footage of you and your new wife. If we end up in court, who do you think the judge believes?"
Michael was completely speechless.
It was as though someone had a hand around his throat, and he couldn't get a word out.
I didn't give him another chance. I hung up without hesitation and blocked his number.
Peace at last.
I gazed out the window as evening settled in.
A week had passed.
Seven days since I returned home.
In those seven days, I sold the house, cut off his cash flow, and destroyed his career.
And Jonathan still believed the worst of it was the appreciation on one house.
He had no idea that the house itself no longer belonged to him.
I smirked.
The real show was just getting started.
Tomorrow would be a day he'd never forget.