2: 2
His arm froze halfway into his jacket. He turned to look at me like he'd just heard the funniest thing in the world.
"Annette, are you done with this act?"
"Last night was just a few jokes, wasn't it? You're really going to make it into a divorce? And I already explained myself to you."
"Making it into a divorce, yes. And last night was only one of the reasons."
He frowned at me.
"Then what else?"
I pointed at the plastic fake flower in the vase.
He laughed, furious.
"Are you sick? I told you, I've been swamped with work lately and haven't had time to hit the flower shop. It's one flower, and you want a divorce over it? You're thirty years old. Can you stop being this childish?"
"Fine. Once I get through this stretch, I'll buy you a hundred of them, all right? You can stare at them every day until you're sick of the sight of them."
I knew there was no getting through to him, so I pushed the transfer records across to him.
"The two hundred thousand you used to start your business came from my dowry. Last year, when the studio couldn't cover its cash flow, I took another hundred thousand of my mom's retirement money. It's all there in the transfer records. You said at the time it counted as a loan."
His face darkened in an instant. He swept the records onto the floor.
"You're keeping accounts with me down to the last cent? Do you even want this marriage anymore?"
"No, I don't."
I looked him in the eye and said it word by word.
"And this apartment. I paid the down payment before we married, and the deed is in my name. Please move out before the end of the month."
He stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly laughed.
"Annette, will you wake up? You quit your job and sat at home for three years. I'm the one who's been paying your social security. Leave me and you'll be living on air?"
"While I'm still willing to humor you, don't push this until it gets ugly. If we really divorce, you're thirty, no job, no income. Who's going to want you?"
I didn't argue with him. I pulled an offer letter out of my bag and pushed it in front of him.
"My old company's director came to me yesterday. Project manager position, double the salary. I start Monday."
The smile froze on his face.
He picked up the offer, glanced at it, and slammed it down hard on the table.
"You lined up your next move a long time ago? You've been wanting to divorce me this whole time, haven't you?"
"No wonder you've been so passive-aggressive lately. Turns out there's someone else, isn't there?"
"If that's what you want to think, there's nothing I can do about it."
I stood up.
"Take your time reading the agreement. Sign it and get it back to me within three days, and wire the money over with it."
I turned toward the entryway to change my shoes.
Behind me came the sound of him smashing a cup.
"Annette! You walk out that door, don't you dare come back regretting it!"
I didn't look back. I pulled the door open and walked out.
