So he wanted me to legitimize his mistress—and then tolerate her existence.
I laughed. Actually laughed.
But Roger wasn't wrong about one thing.
I really couldn't stand a single grain of sand in my eye.
So when my friend sent over Judy's file—and received the videos and photos I'd forwarded—she called me, already laughing.
"I have to say, Roger found himself a real idiot!"
"We didn't even need to go digging for evidence. She gift-wrapped it and handed it right to us!"
My friend's laughter rang through the phone.
"Those videos alone are enough to bury Roger. And then there's your marital assets."
"Also," she asked, "when your parents backed his startup, didn't he sign a promissory note?"
He had.
Roger had insisted on writing that note. He'd made me film the entire thing—said it was to give my family peace of mind.
Even when my parents refused, even when I said it really wasn't necessary.
Roger wouldn't budge.
"Lori."
"I don't want anyone thinking I'm taking advantage of your family."
"Keep this safe. It's your protection for the future."
Now.
I stared at that promissory note in my hands, at the USB drive containing the video, listening to my friend say—
"With all this—"
"There's more."
I cut her off. I pulled out the company registration documents from when Roger founded the business. He'd consulted some fortune teller back then, who said my birth chart was more auspicious, better for attracting wealth. So he'd registered the company under my name.
Including every piece of real estate we owned together.
I spread everything across the table.
"This is enough to make Roger come crawling."
I told my friend.
"I don't just want Roger left with nothing. I want his reputation in ruins."
I returned home from the law firm to the apartment Roger and I had shared for three years. At the entryway, there it was—roses Roger had prepared for me. Withered now, unrecognizable, with a card resting on top:
Hope my wife is happy forever.
A little smiley face drawn in the corner.
Roger used to bring me flowers every single day. Five years straight, without fail.
Now.
I watched him walk in carrying a fresh bouquet, his expression perfectly calm as he met my gaze.
"Lori."
As if nothing had happened, he set the flowers on the entryway table and tossed the dead roses into the trash.
"We're husband and wife—one unit. Those women out there? They're just entertainment."
"You should understand that." He stepped closer. "Can we stop this nonsense?"
The perfume clinging to him wasn't mine.
That cloying sweetness turned my stomach. I stepped back instinctively, and my palm connected with his face before I could think. I threw the divorce agreement at him.
"Roger."
"Adultery during marriage. Fraudulent transfer of marital assets. Every cent you spent on Judy." My voice was ice. "You have two choices."
I watched his expression freeze.
"Option one: sign, and we divorce with dignity."
Roger picked up the agreement, staring at me in disbelief.
"Option two: fight me in court." I held his stunned gaze. "Less dignified, but you'll still walk away with nothing."
Roger ripped the papers in half with a violent jerk. A cold laugh escaped him.
"Lorraine!"
"You're dreaming!"
"Walk away with nothing?"
"Who the hell do you think you are!"
He flung the shredded agreement into the air. Fragments drifted down like snow, scattering across the floor.
I watched his face darken to thunder as he closed in on me, every word bitten off.
"You want me to leave with nothing?"
"Not. A. Chance."
He opened his mouth to say more, but his phone exploded with notifications. Irritated, he glanced at the caller ID, jabbed the answer button, and bellowed into the receiver—
"What is it!"
Then—
I watched the color drain from Roger's face inch by inch until he was deathly pale, staring at me in disbelief.
