From that day on, I decided to change. I established a routine.
Early in the morning, I would leave the baby with my mother, change into my workout clothes, and go for a run along the trail near our house.
As I sweated, it felt like the depressing thoughts were being washed away. I bought a journal and started writing, clearing my head.
The act of writing helped to offload the sludge from my mind. I bought a coloring book and colored whenever I had a spare moment.
Focusing on the vibrant colors brought a sense of peace to my mind.
Overcoming grief didn’t happen overnight. There were days when the feelings of injustice resurfaced, but I no longer allowed myself to wallow in them.
I treated them as a lesson and faced them head-on. Thanks to my parents’ love and my daughter’s smile, I knew I was slowly pulling myself out of the mire and getting ready to officially end this toxic relationship.
Miss Davis handled things swiftly. Exactly two weeks after I filed, all the divorce papers were ready.
Thanks to the irrefutable evidence I provided, Daniel’s side couldn’t offer any counterarguments in court. He had no grounds to fight for custody of Lily.
As for the assets, we agreed to sell the condo and split the proceeds. The $15,000 he had secretly sent to his mistress was recognized as an improper disposal of marital assets, and the court ordered him to return my half, $7,500, to me.
On a Wednesday morning, I received a call from my lawyer’s office to come in and sign the final papers before the court issued the final decree.
I ironed a sea green blouse and put on a pair of neat black slacks. On my way out, the autumn sky was exceptionally clear and blue, a stark contrast to the dreary rain on the day I discovered his secret.
When I opened the door to the lawyer’s office, Daniel was already sitting on the sofa waiting. In less than two months, his polished appearance had completely crumbled.
He was gaunt, his eyes were hollow, and a dark stubble covered his chin. The shirt he wore was wrinkled.
Seeing him, I felt a fleeting sense of pity rather than satisfaction. A man who had used every means to acquire a glamorous shell had ultimately destroyed everything himself because of his own greed.
Daniel jumped to his feet when he saw me enter. He awkwardly clasped his hands.
“You’re here. How have you and Lily been?”
“Lily is good, and so am I.”
I pulled a chair from across the room and sat down, maintaining a deliberate distance. I nodded and replied curtly.
“We’re doing fine. You don’t need to worry.”
Miss Davis came in with a file and placed it on the glass table. She asked both of us to carefully read the sections on asset division, child support, and visitation rights one last time before signing.
The only sound in the office was the quiet rustling of paper. I read every line, not missing a single detail.
Everything was as I had demanded. I took a pen from my bag and signed my name firmly at the bottom of the page.
My handwriting was sharp and steady. When it was Daniel’s turn, his hand trembled.
He hesitated for a long time, looking at me, his eyes filled with regret and powerlessness. But faced with my cold expression, he seemed to realize that any effort was futile.
He slowly bowed his head and heavily wrote his name on the paper. Once the procedure was finished, Miss Davis collected the documents.
Before I left, Daniel looked up at me and asked in an earnest voice, “Jennifer, the court granted me the right to pay child support and see her. Can I come see Lily on Sunday afternoons? I’m still her father after all.”
I paused at the doorway and looked back at the man who was once my husband. Vengeance was not how I wanted to raise my child.
I answered honestly.
“I agree. You can come see her on Sunday afternoons, but please be on time and let me know in advance. I don’t want our routine to be disrupted.”
With those words, I opened the door and walked out. The warm autumn sunlight poured down on my face.
The glass door closing behind me put a final permanent end to my three years of a mistaken marriage. All the paperwork was done.
From this moment on, I was officially a free woman and a mother ready to face the long journey ahead.
The time after the legal proceedings was a series of busy but strangely peaceful days. With the money from the sale of the condo and the funds returned from Daniel, I had a decent nest egg.
I put half of it into a college fund for Lily and used the rest for living expenses. As my maternity leave was ending, I contacted my company, explained my situation, and requested to work from home.
Fortunately, thanks to my years of experience and proven capabilities, they agreed on the condition that I come into the office only on Monday mornings for meetings.
This decision allowed me to maintain a stable career while being present for my daughter’s growth. Life as a single mom demanded a high level of self-discipline.
Every day, I woke up at 5:00 a.m. while Lily was still sound asleep. I’d put on my running shoes and jog for 30 minutes on the country roads near my parents’ house.
The fresh morning air and the chirping of birds in the bamboo groves washed away the previous day’s fatigue. Back home, I’d shower, drink a glass of warm water, then turn on my computer and start working.
Around 7:00 a.m., my daughter would wake up, and the house would fill with the sound of her laughter. My parents would take turns looking after her, feeding her porridge, and helping me focus on my work.
I felt a bond of family I had never experienced living in that sterile, closed-off condo with Daniel.
On weekend afternoons when I had free time, I would sit on the porch and paint. I painted the flowers blooming in the yard, the sunset-streaked sky, my father’s wrinkled smile as he chopped firewood.
With every brush stroke, not only did color fill the paper, but the wounds in my heart also began to slowly heal. I realized that losing one terrible husband didn’t mean losing everything.
My life was still vast and colorful, filled with small joys as long as I was open to receiving them. My diligent work ethic paid off.
At the end of that year, I was recognized for successfully completing a major project for my department and was promoted to team leader along with a hefty year-end bonus.
The day I held the salary increase notice in my hand, I treated myself to a nice meal and bought a few new outfits. The reflection in the mirror was that of a neat, confident woman in her 30s.
The shadow of my past self was nowhere to be found. I had completely shed that dark period and had rebuilt a new, proud life with my own two hands.
Life flowed on peacefully.
Then one winter night, I had just put Lily to sleep and was about to sip a cup of hot tea and watch a show when my phone buzzed with a new Messenger notification.
After the divorce, I had blocked all contact from my former in-laws, leaving only Daniel’s number unblocked for communication about our daughter. I picked up the phone and saw it was a message from an unsaved, unfamiliar number.
But as soon as I read the first line, I knew exactly who it was.
“Jennifer, hello. How are you? It’s Chloe. I know you blocked my number, so I’m contacting you from someone else’s phone. Please don’t delete this message right away. I’m having a really hard time. The son I gave birth to is a few months old now. And Daniel abandoned us. He blamed me for everything, saying he lost his home, his family, and his job because of me. He’s a truly disgusting person. He just packed his things and disappeared without a trace, leaving me and my son in a tiny studio apartment with no money for living expenses. I regret everything so much. I guess this is karma.”
I read the words on the screen one by one. The mistress’s desperate plea didn’t move my heart in the slightest.
