Chapter 2

I knew Wilson was generous toward Jessica, but I didn't expect him to be this generous. Yet with me, his wife of many years, he was extremely stingy. To avoid people finding out about our relationship, I had taken the subway to get to and from work for the longest time. Eventually, it got inconvenient, so I suggested getting a car. In response, he told me not to be so vain and said he also wanted to toughen me up. On my birthdays, he'd only say a quick "happy birthday" or occasionally give me a handwritten card. I didn't really mind, but seeing all the gifts other people got from their husbands on social media made me a little envious. That was why, on my 28th birthday, I finally mustered the courage to ask Wilson for a birthday present. Annoyed, he had said, "Claire, we've been married for years. Do you really need to fuss over something like this?" Yet, if I really were serious about such things before, we'd have split a long time ago. Over the years, I turned down great opportunities and high-paying jobs just to work alongside Wilson. Not only was my base salary the lowest, but I also had the heaviest workload. And Wilson always found reasons to dock my pay. Once, he had said I arrived at the hospital too early and disrupted the vibe, so my pay got deducted. Another time, Jessica threatened to resign, and Wilson somehow twisted it into my fault and used my bonus to appease her. Looking back now, all the money he had docked from my pay probably went to Jessica. And the reason he treated me dismissively was simply that he assumed I wouldn't divorce him. Unfortunately for him, I was done. It was time for this miserable marriage to come to an end. After composing myself, I drove to a law firm to have a lawyer draft a divorce agreement. After that, I went home to pack up some of my stuff before driving toward my apartment. I had originally wanted to add Wilson's name to the deed of the apartment, but when I was buying it, I changed my mind and had a prenuptial agreement made instead as a safeguard for myself. In hindsight, I was fortunate I had the prenup in place. Otherwise, I'd have nowhere to go when I finally moved out. When I got to the apartment, I entered the code to open the door. However, the keypad suddenly flashed red and beeped loudly. Did I input the wrong code? I tried several more times, but it still didn't work. Unease gnawed at me. I quickly called a locksmith to force it open. When the door opened, I was utterly stunned. The overpowering smell of perfume hit me in the face, and the floor was littered with leftover takeout boxes and scattered clothes. The chic, minimalist decor I loved so much had been completely converted into something straight out of a saccharine pink fantasy. And the walls, which used to be covered with pictures of Wilson and me, were now plastered with photos of Wilson and Jessica. That was when it hit me—Wilson also knew the code to the apartment. Since we got together, I'd never hidden anything from him. And yet, while I had given him my trust, he had used it to turn this place into his little love nest with Jessica without me knowing. Seeing all the traces of their life here made me feel sick. There was no way I could live in this apartment anymore. I used the last of my savings to rent a small studio temporarily, then quickly listed the apartment online at a low price. It didn't take long for someone to reach out about buying the apartment. Once the contract was signed, I gave them the code, and they showed up with their bags to move in right away. After finishing all that, I was about to rest when my phone rang. The second I picked up, Wilson's voice came through. Feigning casualness, he asked, "Claire, you changed the apartment code? Why did the guy inside say that you sold the apartment to him?" Since I had no reason to keep it from him, I said, "Yeah, I sold it." There was a pause on the other end. He then questioned with a hint of anger in his voice, "You sold it? How could you make such a big decision on your own without even consulting me first?" I replied coldly, "It's my apartment. Of course I have the right to do what I want. Honestly, I'm only selling my apartment. Why are you getting so worked up?" Wilson went silent. Up until now, I'd never made a fuss over things like this with him. Because I had always said that my things were his, he was used to taking advantage of me. Still, I had never minded since we were a "family", after all. I never expected that my sincerity would only make him push his luck further. If he didn't treat me like a wife, why should I treat him like a husband? Upon hearing how blunt I sounded, Wilson believed I was still sulking. He spoke in a softer tone, which was rare. "Alright, I get it. You're mad at me for breaking my promise, but I clearly had a reason, didn't I? "I promise that after things settle down, I'll make it up to you by giving you a proper honeymoon, and then we can have a child together. That's fair, right? "But first, you need to get the apartment back. Oh, I forgot to tell you. When Jessie came to me back then, she had nothing. I felt sorry for her, so I let her stay in your apartment. It was empty, anyway. "I didn't expect you would just sell it. Now, look—because of you, Jessie has no place to stay. You should stop being so stubborn and get the apartment back, Claire. I'll fulfill my promise to you eventually." There it was again. Whenever I wouldn't back down, Wilson would dangle a carrot in front of me in the form of an empty promise to try to make me compromise. However, after so many years, I was already done chasing the carrot. I said coldly, "Fine. I'll get the apartment back, but Jessica has to pay me rent first." Wilson barked, "Clearly, all you care about is money! It's hard enough already that Jessie came to this big city alone. As her former senior, it's only a given that I help her out and take care of her. "Seriously, not only do you not help, but you even add to her troubles. When did you become so cold-hearted?" I sneered inwardly. Wilson sure knew how to take care of Jessica. As a matter of fact, he took care of her so well that he even got her pregnant. Moreover, she was the one who had been freeloading at my apartment this whole time, so how was any of her problems my fault now? My silence made Wilson think he had the upper hand, so he said in a cold tone, "Claire Hester, my patience only goes so far. Don't do things that will make me mad." Before, whenever Wilson got angry, I would immediately swallow my pride, apologize, and placate him. But now that I was done with him, it was only natural that I couldn't care less whether he got mad. I slowed my words as I stated, "Wilson, I'm not the reason Jessica's life has been hard, so I don't owe her anything." With that, I hung up. Once I was done putting my luggage away, I grabbed the divorce agreements and drove back to the house Wilson and I shared, planning to get his signature. At the doorstep, I could hear laughter and chatter inside.