Goodbye, Toxic Love

Chapter 5

I took a deep breath, paid the fees on my own, and immediately went to meet with a lawyer.

What I didn’t expect was that the lawyer assigned to handle my case was none other than my former best friend, Emily.

She looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

I didn’t waste time with pleasantries and went straight to the point. "I want a divorce."

She paused for a second before saying, "You’ve been a full-time housewife for over a decade. If you get a divorce, the chances of you getting custody of Chris are slim."

"I don’t want custody of him." I took another deep breath.

She looked at me in surprise, but under my insistence, she quickly drew up a comprehensive divorce agreement.

I sent it off immediately. She had a two-hour lunch break, so she invited me to a nearby restaurant to eat.

I agreed.

"I thought you’d be the kind of woman to stay a full-time housewife forever. Didn’t expect you to be so decisive about divorcing," she said.

She continued, "I remember when you just went for an interview once, and not only did you get a scolding, but I did too! We both got it good."

Thinking back to that moment, guilt washed over me.

We used to be the best of friends, but when Chris got into a fight and got hurt at school when he was five, Ethan blamed me for not keeping things in check. He also tore into my friend for encouraging me to have my own career.

At that time, I was consumed with guilt over Chris’s injury and had no energy left to deal with anything else, including my friendship. Over time, our bond started to fade.

I sincerely apologized for how things had played out.

She understood, and we moved past it.

As we ate, it felt like we were back to the way things used to be.

She started asking me about my plans, considering how in the divorce agreement, I had allocated all the assets I was entitled to for Chris’s support. I’d made it clear that after the divorce, I would have no further ties to his upbringing.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my own finances.

I knew full well that if I tried to take anything, Ethan would refuse to sign the papers. He had always treated these past years as if I’d lived off his money, and he’d never agree to any fair division.

With how difficult it was to get a divorce, I wasn’t about to waste more time fighting him over money.

"Just start looking for a job. Throw my resume out there," I sighed, sharing my plan with her.

"You have no experience, Lauren. I’m afraid you won’t find something suitable," she said, shaking her head.

"I know, but I’ll try. Worst case, I’ll take a cleaning job. I just need to find a way to support myself," I said, sounding completely at ease.

From the very start, I’d made up my mind: even if it meant becoming a janitor, I was going to divorce Ethan.

"That’s the spirit!" she praised me. "With that kind of determination, you’ll succeed in whatever you do."

I smiled.

After lunch, I went back home to start packing my things.

Even though I’d lived there for fourteen years, I was surprised at how little I actually had when I started sorting through everything.

The living room was full of Chris’s toys, and in the bedroom, the closet was neatly arranged with Ethan’s suits, ones I’d carefully chosen and bought for him.

The phone rang—it was Ethan.

I picked it up, and immediately his angry voice came through the line. "Lauren, are you seriously going to do this?"

"I’m not causing trouble. Just sign the papers and come by City Hall tomorrow afternoon," I said, then added, "That’s the only time you have this week. Don’t forget."

From the other end, I heard Chris’s sharp voice. "Dad will never forget. I’ve always wanted Aunt Cece to be my mom. You’re just making way for her."

Cece’s fake conciliatory voice followed closely behind. "Chris, you can’t talk to your mom like that. It’ll hurt her feelings."

It was work hours, and whenever I brought lunch to Ethan at the office, I’d leave it at the front desk for his assistant to bring up.

He’d always said that my bringing it to him would interfere with his work.

Apparently, that rule only applied to me.

If it was Cece, though, she could waltz right in, even bringing Chris along with her.

"Good, she’ll be heartbroken. She’s only good at spending Dad’s money and does nothing else," Chris yelled back.

I heard it loud and clear. My eyes grew numb as I looked at the neatly arranged home.

Maybe he was right. I hadn’t done much.

I couldn’t help but laugh.