In that moment, an exhaustion settled over me that went bone-deep.
I didn't want to repeat the same words I'd already said a thousand times.
I didn't want to hear another one of his brush-off answers.
I drew a slow breath and spoke, tired to the marrow.
"I saw the notebook you hid in the cabinet."
The hand peeling shrimp froze in midair.
Abraham went still.
Then his voice shot up, loud enough to bury the guilt of a cheating man.
"You went through my things?"
"Cindy, haven't I told you not to touch my work stuff?"
"I'm good to Charlotte for the sake of this partnership, so I can give you and our daughter a better life!"
Sweet-talking a client required a $13.14 'forever love' transfer?
Sweet-talking a client required booking a romance suite and buying strawberry-flavored condoms?
He'd even gone out of his way to write down which positions Charlotte liked in bed.
That kind of care, that kind of favoritism, was something I'd never once dared to imagine for myself.
In her sleep, May knit her little brows.
Swallowing the ache in my chest, I gently covered her ears.
Thinking of May, Abraham let out a sigh.
He opened his mouth, started and stopped several times.
When he couldn't seem to find any reasonable excuse, he used washing his hands as a way out and walked off.
Then, as if granting me charity, he sent me a screenshot.
"What happened today, that was my oversight."
"I bought the ginseng. Something came up at the company, so I won't be staying here with you."
What he really meant was:
"I've apologized. You're on your own now."
I opened the screenshot.
Beneath the free-shipping crushed ginseng dust sat an $8,999 La Mer cream.
That was exactly how little Abraham thought of me.
He couldn't even be bothered to lift a finger and blur out his lover's gift.
Maybe he'd just gotten used to me swallowing everything.
He assumed that as long as the children were there.
I would never leave, would never stop bowing my head and giving in.
But he was wrong.
I could forgive how he looked down on me, but I could never forgive the harm he'd done to my child.
A bitter curl tugged at the corner of my mouth.
I steeled myself and deleted Abraham's contact.
Then I turned and sent a message to a lawyer.
"What's the fastest you can do a divorce agreement and asset division?"
He replied faster than Abraham ever did.
"Three days."
Three days.
Ten years of building a life together, and it turned out three days could end it.
That was fine, too.
A rotten man, a rotten mess. Best to cut it clean and cut it fast.
By noon the next day, Abraham still hadn't shown up.
He hadn't even noticed I'd deleted him.
It was Charlotte who came instead, carrying two bags of fruit.
She wore a head-to-toe designer suit.
On her well-kept face hid a pride that was easy to miss if you weren't looking.
"Mrs. Simmons, I'm so sorry."
"I had no idea your daughter was this frail, that one delivery order could land her in the hospital."
As she spoke, Charlotte suddenly gave a faint smile.
And jabbed a hard finger against May's head.
"Then again, you can't really blame me. The competition in this world is brutal."
"A useless child like this. Honestly, her dying would be her one contribution to the family, to Abraham."
May's little face went white in an instant.
My heart clenched, and I quickly pulled her out of the room.
Charlotte flicked my hand away in disgust and deliberately raised her voice.
"Was I wrong?"
"May didn't inherit a single one of Abraham's good qualities."
"She's sickly, she's timid, she's worthless."
"What right does a child like that have to inherit the business Abraham built with his own blood and sweat?"
"My child is different. Abraham's already lined up the best early-education tutor for him."
