I took a week off work and went back to my hometown.
“Divorce? Are you out of your damn mind?”
Mom didn’t even let me finish explaining before she started yelling.
“Didn’t you always oppose me marrying Ivory?”
“That was back then! That girl’s different now! What, did a donkey kick you in the head?”
“Mom, Ivory cheated on me.” I said it with difficulty.
She scoffed, angry beyond belief. “And what, you’re just gonna cry about it? I told you—if your wife steps out of line, you make her scared to leave. You’re a grown-ass man man, for god’s sake!
“If you don’t lay down the law, then don’t act surprised when she makes a fool outta you!”
She looked at me like I was the biggest disappointment.
“You’re not even ugly. Been in Utah all these years, and you couldn’t find a proper girl, bring your mom to the capital and let me enjoy life? No—you had to play this whole ‘start-from-nothing’ crap with Ivory.
“And now that she’s finally made a name for herself, you wanna back out? You really are your father’s son. Spineless!
“Your brother’s got more brains than you! He hasn’t even married yet, and he already talked his fiancée’s family into buying them a condo in Austin. No prenup, no ring, and they’re still handing over the keys! They’ve only got one daughter, so the whole business will be his someday.”
Then, without a second thought, she threw the gifts I brought home right out the front door.
“Loser! Just like your broke-ass dad!
“Either make that bitch leave with nothing and give you all the money, or suck it up, play the loser for a few more years, knock her up again—and when the kid’s older, divorce her and demand alimony—ten grand a month, minimum!”
Dragging my suitcase behind me, I walked out onto the street, completely numb.
The sun was blazing, but I couldn’t feel the heat. I was cold, inside out.
Money. Every word out of my mom’s mouth was about money. Not once did she say, “Son, if you’re hurting, just stay home and rest a few days.”
My phone buzzed.
It was Ivory.
[Why aren’t you home?] she messaged.
I didn’t reply.
She called a minute later.
“Usher, why didn’t you reply to my text?”
“I was at my mom’s. Didn’t see it.”
“Everything okay over there?”
“Yeah, just tired from work. Needed a break.”
She could tell something was off. Her voice softened.
“Did your mom give you crap again?”
“Y… Yeah. A bit.”
“Come back here. I’ll pick you up from the station,” she said without hesitation. “Let’s go out for steaks tonight—there’s that spot near downtown you’ve been wanting to try.”
That spot—I’d talked about wanting to go there for months. Just never had the time.
“Don’t take anything your mom said to heart. You’ve still got me. As long as we’re okay, nothing else matters.”
It sounded so familiar.
She’d said the same thing back when we had nothing, when life was at its hardest.
“Usher, stop overthinking. Just come home. I’ll be waiting at the station.”
“Okay.”
Before I even exited the station, I saw her in the crowd.
She was standing tall in a light blue dress, elegant, graceful, scanning the crowd with focused eyes.
“Usher!”
The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up. She clicked toward me in her heels and threw herself into my arms.
“Next time you go home, bring me. I’ll fight your mom myself—no way I’m letting her talk down to you ever again!”
I looked down. She was looking up. That look in her eyes—it didn’t feel fake. It was full of real, raw concern.
And right then, my emotions twisted in every direction.
I even thought, ‘Maybe, if she never brings it up, I can pretend none of her betrayals ever happened.’
She used to love me. We went through hell together. There was real history there. Even if she cheated, she never wanted to end things with me.
She didn’t want me to touch her anymore, but she said we could do IVF. Have a cute little kid.
‘And maybe after that… maybe she’d let go of Dimon quietly. Come back to us. Be the wife, the mom.’
But on the way to the restaurant, she got a call.
I watched her face change as she picked up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She hesitated.
“Something… at work. But forget it. I promised to take you out, so I told them I’m not coming.”
And right then, everything clicked into place.
I heard myself reply with a dry voice, “It’s fine. Work’s important. My stomach’s been acting up anyway—let’s save it for another time.”
“But…”
“No buts. Just drop me off at the plaza ahead. I wanna check out the new machines at the authorized store.”
“Alright. Call me if you feel down or need anything.”
“Mm.”
I got out at the intersection and watched her drive away.
I knew today was Dimon’s birthday.
I’d heard them talk about it before.
Ivory said she couldn’t be with him on Valentine’s Day, but she’d make it up to him on his birthday.
An hour later, she texted me.
[At the office! Time to grind! These idiots under me are always messing things up!]
I stared at her message for a while before replying.
[Don’t overwork yourself.]
That night, I opened Dimon’s profile.
He’d posted something new.
In the photo, he and Ivory were both holding up a hand in front of the camera, forming a heart together.
My eyes landed on her delicate fingers.
She forgot to take off her wedding ring.
Dimon would probably love punishing her for that.
My blood boiled in my chest as I swiped to the next photo.
The lighting was dim and romantic. The round bed was covered in rose petals.
Location was tagged. They were at Sunview Heights, a couple’s hotel near Salt Lake City.
I took a cab there.
Standing outside the hotel, I pulled out my phone and called 911.
“Hello? Uh, yeah, I need to report something—there’s some creep out here trying to... pay a woman for sex.”
