After a bitter marriage marked by Mike’s fixation with material money, Nicole suddenly decides to give him everything during their divorce. But as Mike revels in his “victory,” Nicole’s laughter exposes a secret plan in the works. Mike doesn’t realize she’s ready to make her final move.
I came out of the lawyer’s office with a blank expression on my face, my shoulders sunk, and I looked like a defeated ex-wife. The rain was pouring down hard, and the dismal sky matched my attitude — or at least the one I wanted everyone to believe I was in.
Inside, I was buzzing. As I made my way toward the elevator, my palms grasped the cold steel door handle. There was no one there. Good.
The elevator door closed softly behind me, and as soon as I was alone, I let out a tiny giggle. It wasn’t something I planned; it just came up from deep within me, like champagne finally uncorked.
The more I reflected on what I’d just done, the more I laughed like a crazy in the elevator.
If anyone saw me just then, they’d think I’d finally snapped, gone insane from all the stress, but that was only the beginning. Everything was coming together brilliantly.
Mike could have it all—the house, the car, and the savings. It was precisely what I desired. He felt he’d won, which was the finest part. He had no idea what was going to happen.
The elevator abruptly came to a halt, and I quickly gathered myself. I looked at myself in the elevator’s mirrored wall: disheveled hair, sleepy eyes, and a small smile still on my lips. I didn’t really care. This was going to be enjoyable.
A few weeks earlier…
Mike and I hadn’t been happy in years, but it wasn’t just a normal breakup. Mike was completely fascinated with his image. He was all about flashy cars, owning the largest house on the block, and wearing only luxury clothing.
Everything was a charade, and I’d performed my role for far too long. The fractures had begun to appear, and as the disagreements became more frequent, I knew the inevitable was about to happen.
The truth is, I was not afraid of the ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ. I knew Mike and understood precisely how this would turn out.
He didn’t care about preserving the marriage. No, all he wanted was to win—the house, the money, and the ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ.
All I wanted was to be out of this arrogant lifestyle. But it didn’t mean I was going to let him take advantage of me. So I’d give Mike what he wanted, but with a fishhook-like catch.
The incident occurred on a Tuesday. Mike returned home late yet again. When he raced into the kitchen, I was pretending to scan through my phone and not looking up.
“We need to talk.”
I sighed, barely concealing the boredom in my voice. “What now?”
He slapped his keys on the counter, and I could almost feel the frustration coming from him. He was always like this when things didn’t go his way at work, and I was obviously the easiest target.
“I’m done,” he said, his voice low and tight. “I want a ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ.”
I blinked up at him. Finally. I nodded slowly, as if everything were sinking in, although I’d been planning for this moment for weeks.
“Okay,” I said simply.
He frowned, clearly taken aback. “That’s it? No fight? No begging?”
I shrugged. “What’s the point?”
For a moment, he appeared perplexed, as if I had taken the wind out of his sails. He expected me to plead with him to stay.
But I only needed to give him enough rope to hang himself.
The ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ proceedings were just as bad as I imagined. We sat across from each other in a sterile conference room, with lawyers flanking us, as Mike described all he wanted. The house, the car, the savings; it was as if he was reading a grocery list.
And the entire time, he had this smug little grin on his face, as if he expected me to break down and cry at any minute.
“Fine,” I said, barely listening. “You can have it all.”
My lawyer gave me a look that obviously said, “Are you sure?” But I simply nodded.
Mike blinked. “Wait, what?”
“I said, you can have it. I don’t want any of it, except for my personal possessions.”
He looked stunned. “You… you don’t want the house? Or the money?”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It’s all yours.”
His disbelief suddenly turned into glee. “Great. Then take this afternoon to pack up your belongings. It’s not much, so that should be plenty of time.” Mike glanced at his watch. “I’ll expect you to be out by six.”
“No problem,” I replied.
He sat up straighter, his chest pumping out as if he had won the lottery. And I allowed him to think it.
And that brings me back to the time when I went into the elevator in the lawyer’s office building and couldn’t stop laughing.
As I got out of the elevator, I took out my phone. My fingers paused over the screen for a second before I typed a brief message: I’m heading to the house to pack up my things. I’ll call you when it’s time to make your move.
I clicked send and grinned. It’s time for the real fun to begin.
Packing up the house turned out to be easier than I expected. I didn’t want much, just a few personal items that preserved memories untainted by Mike. The house was too enormous for just the two of us anyway, and it always felt like his rather than mine.
I was tape up the last package when I picked up the phone to call. My mother, Barbara, answered the phone on the second ring.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice light. “It’s time.”
There was a pause, and Mom’s typical, no-nonsense tone emerged. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
Mom could not stand Mike. She saw right through his showy facade when I introduced them. But what is the best part? She had helped us purchase this home. She was the reason Mike believed he had gotten a good deal on it, and now she was going to be the reason he lost it.
I hung up, feeling strangely relieved as I looked about. I was done faking.
The next morning, I was preparing breakfast in my new small apartment when my phone rang. I smirked as Mike’s name appeared on the screen.
“Hello?” I answered sweetly.
“You set me up!” Mike’s voice was furious, practically frothing at the mouth.
I put the phone on speaker while leaning against the counter and getting a piece of toast. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“Your mother!” he spat. “She’s… she’s in my house! She’s taken over everything!”
“Oh, right,” I said, biting into my toast. “Remember that agreement we signed when she gave us the down payment? The one that lets her live there whenever she wants, for as long as she wants?”
There was a long pause, and I could almost hear the wheels working in his brain. I could imagine the look on his face as understanding dawned.
He had signed that agreement years ago, too enthralled by the prospect of a luxury mansion to consider the fine print.
“You! You ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ me! This isn’t over. I’m getting my lawyers—”
Before he could finish, I heard Mom’s shrill, cutting voice over the phone. “Michael, you better get your feet off that coffee table! And stop hogging the remote!”
There was a muffled sound, as if Mike had turned away from the phone and attempted to mumble. “Barbara, this is my house—”
“Oh, hush,” Mom interrupted, louder now. “It’s my house just as much as yours. And another thing, what’s with all these cheap snacks? Do you know how to grocery shop? I’m not living off frozen dinners!”
I had to bite my lip to avoid laughing. Mike grumbled something incomprehensible, his rage barely restrained, but before he could say anything else, I heard her again.
“And turn down that TV! You think I want to listen to that nonsense all day? If you’re going to watch those ridiculous car shows, at least mute it!”
There was a loud smash, followed by more muttering, before the phone abruptly turned off. I took a deep breath and smiled as I sat at the table.
Freedom has never tasted so delicious.
