"I personally borrowed five hundred thousand dollars. I endured over a thousand days and nights of grinding, and we finally made it last year."
"After all that suffering together, how dare you claim you built this alone?"
The evidence was overwhelming.
I had the loan documents from when I'd borrowed the money.
I had photos of us celebrating birthdays in that cramped, run-down room during the early days.
Every trace of our struggle to build this business from nothing—how could any of it be erased?
Ray drew a deep breath. "I can give you something. But not much. A hundred thousand."
A fortune worth tens of millions, and he was offering me a hundred thousand.
My vision blurred. Not from tears.
From the aftershock of loving a man I'd never truly known.
It took me a long moment to steady myself enough to speak normally. "There has to be a reason. Give me a reason for the hundred thousand."
Ray inhaled and spoke as if stating something perfectly reasonable: "She's pregnant. She's carrying my child. And you—you can't have children."
That reason nearly knocked me off my feet.
So that was it.
"But being unable to have children—is that really a reason?"
"There are so many medical options now. Having a baby isn't impossible. So why are you saying I can't?"
I laughed, mocking him.
And as I laughed, it suddenly clicked.
"You never loved me. Ruth is the one you've always wanted, isn't she? Once you had money, you went running back to your first choice to have children with her."
"But have you forgotten how she used to treat you? Do you have Stockholm syndrome?"
In my memory, Ruth Newton had tormented Ray more times than I could count.
Before we'd built ourselves up from nothing, that woman had made his life hell.
She'd forced him to eat slop meant for pigs. Made him kneel before her.
On our wedding day, she'd shown up at the venue and set a fire.
Our ceremony had only made it halfway through.
After all that suffering, Ray—and his entire family—were now protecting this woman. I couldn't wrap my head around it.
When I exposed the truth, Ray scrambled to cover it up.
"That's all in the past. Why bring it up now?"
The elder Dickersons didn't seem to mind either.
Of course not. After all, she was pregnant now.
I lifted my chin, forcing the tears back.
"Ray, you've loved her for years. Now that you're rich and she's carrying your child, you brought her back."
"You got your parents to accept her. All of you, letting bygones be bygones. How pathetic can you be?"
A slap cracked across my face.
I stumbled, barely catching myself.
The burning sting on my cheek deepened my despair—but it also hardened something inside me.
"Marital assets. I'm still entitled to an equal split."
"Ray, don't push this too far. I've agreed to the divorce. But if you think I'm walking away with nothing—"
I swept my gaze around the room.
My voice came out iron-hard: "If you force me to leave empty-handed, I'll die right here."
I'd never been one to make scenes or throw tantrums.
If they hadn't pushed me this far, I would have kept my dignity intact.
But leaving with nothing? That was the one thing I couldn't accept. My parents were in poor health, dependent on expensive medications.
Ray's eyes went bloodshot at my words.
"It's not leaving with nothing. I'm giving you a hundred thousand."
"That's all you're getting. If we're talking about building this from scratch, I'm the one who did the real work."
I stared at him, stunned.
He was comparing labor with me?
We were in the renovation business.
When we first started the company, we'd gone to clients' homes ourselves—measuring rooms, plastering walls, hauling heavy materials.
Sure, he was stronger. He'd done more of the physical work.
But I'd handled everything else. Running to the market at dawn, cooking every meal, keeping us fed and functioning.
And now, today, it had become his hard work that mattered—implying I'd contributed nothing.
My voice tore out of me: "Ray, you're disgusting."
Ray waved his hand, already done with me. "Mom, Dad—throw her out. Lock the door behind her."
