Chapter 4

"What did you say?" My mother-in-law shot to her feet. "Take a good look at the son you two raised. Does he even see us elders anymore?"

"Tell us to leave? Fine. If you can give me one good reason today, we'll go right now."

"You think my daughter can't live without you? Let me tell you, the day she's divorced she'll find someone new, and twenty grand in bride money is nothing to her."

"Who do you think you are, daring to talk about divorce?"

Cheryl kept dabbing at her tears like she'd suffered some terrible wrong, while my mother stood there with an anxious little smile, trying to smooth things over.

My father glared at me. "Speak. Why do you want a divorce?"

"What has Cher ever done to wrong you?"

The way things were going, if I didn't lay it all out today, there'd be no end to it.

Some things had been stuck in my chest for twelve years.

Then I'd say them.

I looked at my mother-in-law. "First, about what you just said. You claim Cheryl spent twelve years as my housekeeper. Let me ask her something. Has she ever once washed my socks?"

"Why should she wash your socks? Don't you have hands?" Cheryl jumped in at once.

"You all heard that? I never asked her to wash them. The washing machine handles my clothes, and small things like socks I do by hand. That's perfectly normal."

"So when it comes to laundry, she's not my housekeeper."

"What about the rest of the housework?" I looked at Cheryl. "Have you ever cooked a meal?"

"Have you ever mopped a floor?"

"Do you even know where to go to pay the HOA fees, the water and power, the gas?"

"Do you know which direction the kids' school gate faces?"

Then I turned back to my mother-in-law. "You say she spent twelve years as a housekeeper. Let me ask, whose housekeeper sleeps until ten every day?"

"Whose housekeeper heads out to play cards every single afternoon like clockwork?"

"I'm managing the children's education," Cheryl shot back.

"Whether you're managing their education or just feeding your need for control, you know the answer in your own heart."

For years I'd held my tongue to keep the peace, to keep this family from blowing up. Now I didn't care.

"Morgan Lambert's mother, what are you getting at? A grown man wants a divorce just because Cher doesn't do the housework?"

"You pick up a little slack and that's too much to ask?"

My mother-in-law kept her eyes locked on me. "Go look at young wives these days. How many of them do housework? She marries into your family and she has to be a slave?"

"You've got two kids already, what's there to fight about?" My father looked at me. "It won't kill you to carry a little more of the housework."

"Stop throwing around the word divorce."

My father-in-law glanced at Cheryl. "Cher, say something too."

Cheryl wiped at her tears. "From now on I'll do the housework."

"See, there you go. From now on, when problems come up, just talk them through." My mother rushed to patch things over.

I looked at Cheryl. It was the first time she'd ever backed down, and it did stir something in me, but I steadied myself again fast.

Twelve years, and nothing had changed. I didn't believe she could.

"I'm going through with the divorce."

My parents' faces fell, and my mother-in-law's went even darker.

Cheryl spoke up again. "The kids' education, I'll change on that too."

"I already told you, I'm going through with the divorce. There's no need for you to change anything."

"What do you even want from me?" Cheryl's voice went shrill.

I'd said some things in front of the elders, but some things were harder to force out. Still, to shut them up today, I had to say it.

Five years of a sexless marriage. That was another big reason I was set on the divorce.

All these years I'd kept offering warmth and getting the cold shoulder, until whatever eagerness I'd had was worn down to nothing.

I didn't like the man I became in the bedroom, reduced to a beggar.

I looked at my parents. "I'm almost forty. This isn't some impulse. I really am divorcing her."

"Five years. Five years without any married life between us."

My parents, who'd been about to talk me out of it, opened their mouths and said nothing.

"You've actually got the nerve to say something like that?" My mother-in-law cursed, her face cold.

"You'd die without that sort of thing?"

I glanced at my father-in-law. He sat with his head down. Looked like his own life was a mess too.

"I can change." Cheryl spoke up once more.

I said nothing, just turned and walked out. Twelve years and still couldn't see a person clearly? Then I'd wasted my life.

That whole day, I refused to answer a single call.

Then the next day at noon, while I was cooking for the kids, someone knocked.

I don't order takeout, and I hadn't bought anything for delivery. So who?

I looked through the peephole. Police at my door.

"Hello. Are you Morgan Lambert?"

"Yes."

"Someone has filed a rape charge against you. We need you to come with us."