Chapter 2
The phone was picked up almost instantly.
Hank's voice sounded impatient, like he had every right to be annoyed. "What is it now? Didn't I already tell you about my dad..."
"Hank," I cut him off.
My voice was so cold it sounded unfamiliar, even to myself. "Where are you right now?"
He seemed taken aback by my tone and paused for a moment. "At home. Where else would I be?"
"Did you come to my office this morning?" I asked.
There was a long silence on the other end. That silence was all the answer I needed.
"Did you submit an unpaid leave application in my name?" I pressed.
"So what if I did?" Hank's voice hardened. "Jenny, don't push your luck.
"You should be grateful I trust you to go home and take care of my dad.
"You're a woman. How much could you possibly make at that job? Is that really more important than looking after your family?"
As I listened to his rant over the phone, I felt nothing inside.
No anger, no sadness. It was like watching a pathetic clown perform.
"Hank," I said, my voice calm and steady. "Unpaid leave requires the employee to personally sign the application, and the company has to approve it.
"You signing my name is forgery. That's illegal. Are you aware of that?"
There was a dead silence on the other end.
I could picture the stunned look on Hank's face right now.
He probably thought I'd cry and go hysterical.
He never imagined I'd stand up to him with reason and the law.
"Who are you trying to intimidate?" His voice was shaky, clearly rattled. "We're husband and wife. So what if I sign your name?"
"'Husband and wife?'" I echoed, the word felt almost laughable to me. "Hank, let's get a divorce."
I said it clearly and firmly, not a trace of hesitation in my voice.
"What?" He seemed not to have heard clearly.
"I said, let's get a divorce," I repeated.
"Jenny, are you out of your mind?"
His voice rose sharply, overflowing with disbelief and fury. "You're really divorcing me because you don't want to take care of my dad? How could you be so heartless?"
I insisted, "Let me make this clear one more time: we're getting a divorce."
I wasn't going to waste another breath. "We'll split everything fifty-fifty. The house goes to me, the car to you, and the savings get divided equally. That's my bottom line."
"In your dreams."
"Then I'll see you in court."
With that, I hung up.
The office went dead silent. Every colleague was staring at me in stunned silence.
I didn't pay them any mind.
I glanced over at Peter's office.
He was standing behind the blinds, watching me.
I nodded at him.
He let out a breath, flashing me a thumbs-up.
I sank back into my chair, feeling completely drained. But inside, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief.
It was like someone who'd been burdened by heavy chains for years finally shattered them in this moment.
My phone started buzzing like crazy. It was Hank calling.
I hit mute.
Not long after, a text popped up on my screen. It was from Hank's mother, Mandy Miller.
The message was terse and brutal, entirely her style. It read: [Jenny, get your ass back home right now. Planning a mutiny?]
I stared at the message for a second, then deleted it. I tossed my phone into my bag.
Uttering the word "divorce" felt like lighting the fuse for a war.
I knew the real battle was only getting started.
I was not backing down. Not one step.
*****
I didn't go home right away. Instead, I calmly wrapped up all my work for the afternoon.
At 5:30 sharp, I clocked out.
As I walked out of the office building, the evening breeze hit my face, cool against my skin.
I left my car behind and walked slowly along the street.
I needed a little time to clear my head.
Married for five years, I knew in my heart I had never wronged the Miller family.
Hank's father, Henry Miller, had a stroke two years ago and was left paralyzed on one side.
Hank's sister, Bella Miller, had married and moved far away, barely coming back once a year.
Hank was always busy with work and endless business dinners.
So, naturally, the responsibility of looking after Henry landed squarely on me.
I went out of my way to hire the best home aide I could find, and paid her out of my own pocket.
No matter how late I finished work, I would always stop by Henry's place first to check on him and handle everything before finally heading home.
On weekends, I practically lived there, spending the entire day at Henry's side.
I always thought the Millers would notice and appreciate everything I did for them. It turned out that it was just me fooling myself.
In their eyes, everything I'd done was simply taken for granted.
To them, I was the Miller family's free maid, expected to sacrifice everything for them. But why should I?
I stopped walking and looked up at the evening sky, streaked with sunset colors.
Was it because I was a woman? Or because I used to love Hank?
But whatever love I had left for him was worn away, day after day, by all the little things and the way they took everything for granted.
It wasn't just the last straw; it was death by a thousand cuts.
That forged application was simply the wake-up call that snapped me out of it once and for all.