Chapter 6: The Divorce Ultimatum

Chapter Six

At the parking lot, I yanked my hand free and walked calmly to my car. My fingers trembled as I gripped the wheel. Trees flew by as I sped down the main road. Tears finally spilled over, blurring the headlights ahead.

I gave myself half an hour.

Anger, pain, acceptance, calm... I let myself scream in the car, windows rolled up tight, music blaring. I cranked up the radio—some old Springsteen song blaring—and screamed until my throat went raw. Then I turned the wheel and drove to the bank.

Derek and I shared a family account where all our salaries, dividends, and income went.

When we opened it, he’d joked:

"You always say I’m not expressive. I’ll leave this account for you to manage. I’ll just keep depositing money. Think of it as security for you and our son. Satisfied with this gesture?"

Over the years, the account had grown to over $2.5 million. Sometimes I’d open the app just to reassure myself that our future was safe. The bank staff looked puzzled.

The teller’s voice was flat: "This joint account’s been frozen for guarantee default. You’ll need to speak with our legal department."

My hands and feet went cold. I asked quietly:

"When did this happen?"

"Two months ago."

Two months ago...

That was right after he’d recovered and come home. I’d collapsed from exhaustion caring for him and had a high fever for a week. So while I was burning with fever and delirious, he was already working to secure his advantage for divorce.

I found it both funny and pathetic. The teller gave me a pitying look, the kind you see reserved for people who’ve clearly missed the memo on their own lives.

On the drive over, I’d regretted acting on impulse, thinking I should have secured my retreat before showing my cards.

Turns out, he’d already started plotting against me.

When a man’s heart changes, he can be truly ruthless.

When I got home, it was completely dark.

Derek was in pajamas, sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, looking calm. ESPN was playing quietly in the background, the faint sound of baseball commentary filling the silence.

He glanced at me.

"I sent Caleb to my mom’s. Let’s talk this out once and for all."

I sat down and looked at him silently. The couch felt foreign, like a stranger’s furniture.

He took a sip of tea and began slowly. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and measured:

"I’d planned to talk about this later. I still felt some reluctance, wanted to let you and our son enjoy a happy life a bit longer. But since you made a scene today, I’ll go along with it."

"Rachel, I’ve fallen in love with someone else. Let’s divorce."

I was extremely calm, even smiling slightly at him. It was the smile I reserved for faculty mixers and awkward PTA meetings.

"Derek, can you tell me exactly what it is about her that made you betray ten years of marriage and abandon your wife and child?"

He frowned a little. "If you insist on knowing..."

After a pause, he began, his tone gentle and emotional:

"These years, because of work, I’ve seen too much deception in marriage. I lost my sense of what love and marriage are. But after meeting her, I realized there are still women who, out of love and responsibility, give up a dozen years of their youth without hesitation. She brought life to my heavy, suffocating world."

"You ask what I love about her? I’ve asked myself that a thousand times."

"Because she’s gentle, kind, and strong. Because life gave her hardship, but she still managed to bloom in the mud. Because of the bowl of hot soup she handed me on cold nights."

After that long speech, his face was full of emotion, as if he’d moved himself. I stared at him, trying to find some trace of the man I married.

The room went silent.

After a while, I clicked my tongue lightly.

"So my soup at home isn’t hot enough? You had to go out for that ‘special flavor’?"

Derek’s face stiffened, then turned cold.

"Rachel, you’re a refined egoist. You’d never understand this feeling."

I nodded. "In that case, you leave with nothing, and I’ll agree to the divorce."

He looked at me with open contempt.

"There’s no such thing as leaving with nothing under the law. And even if there were, Wendy and I haven’t done anything. I’m not even the party at fault."

I stared at him for a long time without speaking.

Can someone really change so completely?

As if he’d swapped out his soul for another. The Derek I knew would have argued legal precedent, not morality plays.

Derek seemed to know what I was thinking and frowned slightly:

"Don’t look at me like that. It’s natural to divorce when the love is gone. When I was lying on that mountain waiting for rescue, I realized—life is short. I don’t want to be afraid to love. Even if I’m condemned, I want to risk everything and truly live for once."

"Rachel, don’t forget what I do for a living. I have plenty of tricks—I just never thought I’d use them on you."

I laughed softly.

"Never thought you’d use them on me? Freezing our accounts isn’t a dirty trick? Aren’t you afraid it’ll taint your so-called pure love?"

Derek looked at me and said flatly:

"I saw you checked the account. That’s nothing—just standard procedure to avoid complications in divorce."

"I’ve already drafted the divorce agreement. Money and the child go to me, the house to you. Of course, you’ll have to pay off the mortgage yourself."

"From the standpoint of family contribution, I’m being as generous as possible—"

My hand hovered over the ashtray. I almost stopped. Then I hurled it, hard. Bang!

I grabbed the ashtray off the table and threw it at him. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room.

He clutched his forehead.

Blood trickled out between his fingers.