Ch. Divorce My H 5 Divorce My H 5

Chapter 5 

The next morning, I opened every drawer, 

every dusty cabinet, and every forgotten box. 

10:58 AM Tue 24 Jun 

Let’s Divorce, My Husband 

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One by one, I emptied the shelves. Jewelry 

boxes, old perfume bottles, wrinkled love 

letters, receipts from our anniversary dinners 

that felt staged even back then. Every gift he 

had ever given me–bracelets with half- 

hearted engravings, heels he bought in the 

wrong size, cheap perfumes wrapped in 

ribbon. 

Into the bin they went. 

And the wedding album–the one Donna 

insisted on designing for us with those gold 

foil titles and scripted captions–sat last in 

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my lap. My fingers hovered over it for a 

second, almost uncertain. But then I 

remembered the way Jackson had called me 

nothing. How Donna had smirked with her 

French–manicured claws, talking about 

taking my place. 

I tossed the album into the metal drum 

behind the house. 

Then I lit the match. 

Jackson didn’t notice. He was too busy 

laughing with Donna in the garden, sipping 

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wine like we weren’t supposed to be broke. I 

heard them talking about Finland. About fur 

coats. About how Donna wanted to visit the 

ice hotel “like the influencer she followed.” 

Everyone else in the house was excited, 

buzzing like bees high on sugar. 

Even Zane, the little boy I once tucked in and 

fed when no one else would, sneered as I 

passed him a cup of juice. 

“You don’t belong here,” he muttered under 

his breath. 

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I didn’t even look at him. 

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I just kept stirring the pot on the stove. I set 

the plates, folded the napkins, made sure 

Donna’s steak was medium rare, and 

reheated her espresso exactly how she liked 

1. it. Just one last time. 

She didn’t say thank you. 

No one did. 

After dinner, Jackson surprised me. He came 

into the kitchen–alone, for once–and 

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handed me a small ice pack. For my back. 

His voice was soft. Sickeningly so. 

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“I’m sorry about the other day,” he said. “I just 

didn’t want you acting jealous.” 

I blinked. 

Jealous? That was the word he chose? 

He smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you a 

keychain from Finland when we get back.” 

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Let’s Divorce, My Husband 

A keychain. After everything. 

He glanced around. “Just make sure we 

didn’t forget anything, okay? Pack the 

chargers, the coats, Donna’s pills, and her 

backup heels.” 

I kept my voice low. “I made sure you didn’t 

forget anything.” 

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He patted my arm. “Good. We’ll see you when 

we get back.” 

Then he turned and walked away. calling out. 

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Let’s Divorce, My Husband 

“Come on, Donna! Let’s not miss the flight!” 

She waltzed and held her coat like she was 

being crowned. 

“Oh, Trina,” she cooed with mock sympathy. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring you something. Maybe 

even some of those fancy chocolates you 

like.” 

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Tania scoffed. “Don’t, Aunt Donna. She 

doesn’t have the money to pay for it anyway.” 

I faked a smile and ignored them. They all 

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loaded up into the SUV out front. Zane ran 

past me without a goodbye. Donna threw her 

suitcase in like a queen heading off to 

conquer the world. Jackson adjusted his 

collar and barked a few last–minute 

instructions I didn’t bother to listen to. 

And then… they were gone. 

The second their car turned out of the 

driveway, something in the air changed. 

I breathed again. I didn’t waste time. 

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Let’s Divorce, My Husband 

I pulled out the boxes I had hidden under the 

bed weeks ago. I packed only what mattered 

-my documents, old photo albums of my 

parents, the leather–bound notebook I once 

kept poems in, a few clothes, my passport, 

my own dreams. I changed every lock on the 

doors, reset the passcodes, and closed the 

shutters. 

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Then I took out the divorce papers. Stamped. 

Official. Done. 

I placed them carefully on the dining table— 

where he would surely see them first when 

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they returned. 

I slipped off my wedding ring and left it on 

top of the paper. 

Beside it, I placed the chocolate cake I had 

baked that morning. 

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On the white frosting, I wrote in red icing: 

“Happy Divorce, My Husband!” 

I stepped out of the house with my suitcase 

and didn’t look back. The limousine I had 

scheduled pulled up to the curb right on time. 

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The driver greeted me with a soft nod. He 

took my luggage and opened the door. 

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I slid into the leather seat and watched as the 

house faded from view. 

The mansion I once thought would be a 

home. Now just another expensive lie built on 

betrayal. 

Halfway to the airport, my phone buzzed. 

I stared at the screen. It was him. 

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Jackson: Don’t leave the house. If you leave 

without telling me, I’ll be furious and you’ll get 

a punishment from me. You hear me? Be a 

good dog! 

I didn’t reply. A second message arrived 

seconds later. 

Jackson: Where is Donna’s favorite scarf? 

Didn’t she tell you to pack it? You ruined her 

mood. Go get it and bring it to us. We’re at the 

airport. Now. 

My thumb hovered over the screen. I looked 

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at the messages–like commands from a 

master to a servant. 

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And then, finally, I typed: “I don’t want to bring 

it to you. I am no longer your maid. And if you 

regret marrying me, then I too regret wasting 

my life with you. Goodbye.” 

I hit send. Then I blocked the number, took 

the SIM card out, and tossed it from the 

window. 

By the time the car pulled up at the airport 

terminal, the sky had already begun to turn 

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pink. And there is my new beginning.