ffice. The room was sterile and gray, sme

us. He had drafted the divorce agreement himself, a testa

, a smug little smile playing on

l marital assets, which were nonexistent since we lived in my house. I got nothing. A ne

r I couldn't afford, and dragged the process out for a year, all while he

canned the document

ed her throat. "Mrs. Scott, are you sure you don't want you

picking up the pen

s was just another one of my "dramatic episodes" and that I'd com

ith a steady hand.

ph on his face wa

the kitchen, a sound I hadn't heard in years. Tara was scrolling through a resort w

njoy it for

n the floor with their video games. Ethan was on his phone, likely tex

," I said, my voice cut

e looke

vorce. The agreement is signed. After the 6

ored, waiting

light and conversational, "all of you will need to find a new place to live with

red from the TV, a laugh t

ale to a blotchy red. "What... what

It was my parents' house. It's a pre-marital asset. Ethan' s na

smile to m

you all. And maybe he can finally marry that nice young lady from his office, Madisyn

at erupted w

d her chest, her face a mask of horror. She wasn'

his face white with ra

wavering. "I just did. The clo