A cold laugh escaped me. "You freeload under my roof, eat my food, and you think you have the right to lecture me?"
The moment those words left my mouth,
Boyd's eyes turned red on command, tears rolling down his cheeks.
Like a child who'd been scolded for nothing.
Crack!
Melanie slapped me across the face.
"All you ever do is bully Boyd. What kind of man are you?"
"Divorce!"
She spat the word and walked away without looking back.
Beside her, Boyd's lips curved into a faint, taunting smirk.
A victory lap.
I raised my hand and touched my stinging cheek, the words forming silently in my mind.
Melanie.
That slap just burned through whatever was left between us.
That evening,
Sylvia and I came home to an empty house.
A manila envelope sat on the coffee table. I tore it open. Inside was a divorce agreement.
Already signed by Melanie.
My phone buzzed.
Almost at the same moment, her name lit up the screen.
"Boyd wants to get away for a few days to clear his head. I'm going with him. Three days."
"You saw the papers on the table? When I get back, either that little tramp is gone, or we're done. Your choice."
Every syllable dripped with arrogance.
"You sure about that?"
I kept my tone flat.
"Absolutely."
Melanie let out a short laugh. "If you're scared, do what I said. And while you're at it, think about how you're going to make this up to me."
I lowered my head and said nothing.
Then Boyd's voice drifted through the speaker: "Melanie, my back's really itchy. Could you scrub it for me?"
The line went dead.
I shook my head and picked up the pen beside the envelope.
"Valentine."
"You're really going to sign? This isn't something you can take back. Please, just think about it."
Sylvia grabbed my arm, her voice urgent.
"I've been thinking about it for a long time."
I gave her a small smile, gently moved her hand aside, and signed my name on the divorce agreement.
There was a time when I was terrified of losing Melanie.
But patience and love both have a limit. Sooner or later, they run out.
After I set the pen down, I called a lawyer to handle the asset division, packed our bags, and took Sylvia on a trip of our own.
...
That same night,
Melanie had just stepped out of the shower when her phone rang.
"Hello, Ms. Summers?"
"I'm Mr. Gilbert's attorney. When would be a convenient time for you to discuss the division of marital assets?"
