Chapter 3

3: 3

Penelope pulled up a video on her phone.

It was footage from one of the times I came home from a business trip.

"This time I did it your way instead of playing it safe. Twelve grand in kickbacks this trip."

On the screen, I was handing her a stack of cash.

"If you'd started doing this earlier we'd already be rich. Tell me everything, how it went."

And I did. I walked her through every last detail of how the kickback worked.

Penelope closed the video. "There are plenty more like this."

She looked at me. "Every time you came back I asked you for the details. All of it can be used as evidence."

"We've been married a long time. That's the only reason I haven't turned it in."

In my line of work, anyone with the nerve could skim a lot off the top, especially me, sent out of town as the man in charge on site.

I held the important resources. In the early days Penelope was always telling me I had no guts, that I never thought about this family.

I argued with her about it, and got the silent treatment for it.

To hold the family together, I gave in. And now that same thing had become another weapon she used against me.

What she never understood was that my giving in was only ever aimed at her. Inside, I had always kept to my own principles.

"Your base pay is thirty grand a month now, plus the project bonus every year. I'm not asking for much."

"You don't give it to me, we both go down together."

"I've got nothing and no one to lose. You think I'm scared?"

I didn't give her the chance to keep going. I turned and walked out of that home that had no warmth left in it.

Now I had to get some things ready for the divorce.

"Will he give in?" Austin sounded a little worried.

"He loves me. He nearly died in that fire saving me all those years ago. He'll give in."

I didn't know what they were saying in that room. Right now I had more important things to do.

Down at the foot of the building, I breathed in, greedy for it.

So it turned out even breathing was a kind of happiness. And I was only thirty-five this year.

At thirty-five, I'd finally seen Penelope for what she was, and I was pulling in 1.2 million a year.

Even the air tasted sweet.

My mood really was good. But that wasn't a reason to let Penelope off.

Forty-some minutes later, I arrived at a well-known local law firm.

I wasn't going to wait for Penelope to sue for divorce, and there was no way I'd agree to a settlement with her. This time I was the one filing.

The lawyer took the evidence I'd brought and gave me a professional answer.

Confirmation that I could win, that Penelope would walk away with nothing, and that I could recover my losses, the joy spread up from somewhere deep inside.

It was that whole-body ease, a feeling I hadn't known in a very long time.

Before, the pressure had felt crushing. Penelope's wants climbed right alongside my income, and I always felt like I couldn't keep up.

The moment I decided to divorce, I realized the money I made was more than enough for me to live well.

That night, the moment I checked into the hotel, I could pee standing up.

I could crank the showerhead all the way open and not worry about water going everywhere.

When I slept I didn't have to lay down a mat first. All around me was the smell of freedom.

Over the next few days I felt like the man I used to be had come back.

I could have my own likes. I could do things my own way.

And I couldn't wait for the moment the divorce came through.

Time slipped by. Half a month passed, the easiest half month I'd had since I got married.

And the most agonizing half month for Penelope.

I'd already applied to freeze our joint assets. She kept trying to reach me all through it, but I'd blacklisted her long ago.

She went to the company to corner me and learned I was on leave.

She figured I was playing hard to get, luring her in to close the trap. But today what she got was a court summons.