He Gave Her $1B, I Divorced Him

My attorney moved quickly and met me the next day. As we finalized the divorce agreement, she made one last attempt to change my mind, perhaps because she felt sorry for me. "Ms. Hart, are you sure you want to leave with nothing? You signed a prenuptial agreement, but Mr. Carter has always been generous. You could still negotiate a settlement." I gave a humorless smile. 'A settlement? Is that what she thinks I want?' I had never needed his money. My family was wealthy. I had wanted Nathan, not what he owned. When I learned that Nathan had hit rock bottom, I defied my family, emptied my savings, and helped him rebuild his business. During the first year, the company made no profit. It owed money to creditors and couldn't pay its employees. I went home, pleaded with my parents, and borrowed a large sum to keep it afloat. The company began earning money in its second year. Nathan spent his days chasing contracts and drinking with clients until his stomach problems returned. Every morning at 5 a.m., I prepared a light breakfast that wouldn't upset his stomach, packed it, and delivered it to his office. I did that every day without fail. Working late into the night became routine. I cleaned the office, coordinated with clients, prepared financial reports, and handled every minor task no one else wanted. His employees joked that I did the work of an entire staff. By the third year, the company was finally stable. I began to hope that the wedding I had dreamed of was finally within reach. Nathan claimed the company was still short on funds. He agreed to marry me but said there was no need for anything extravagant. A small ceremony witnessed by family and friends would be enough. Then he produced a prenuptial agreement. Every clause drew a hard line between what was his and what was mine. He had founded the company before our marriage, so it would remain entirely his. At the time, I told myself it didn't matter. I loved him, not his money. Given enough time, he would see everything I had done and finally love me wholeheartedly. I waited 4 years. Then I found the divorce agreement in his safe and finally understood how ridiculous I had been. When Nathan divorced Vivian, he had been willing to empty his accounts for her and pay 10 million dollars in alimony every month. Yet for the woman who had helped him rebuild his life, he wouldn't give me even a wedding or a single share of stock. It wasn't that Nathan feared repeating the past or hated spending money. He simply didn't think I was worth it. In his heart, his only real marriage was the one he had shared with Vivian, and she was his only real wife. I had practically begged him to marry me, and he had treated our marriage as repayment for the money I had put into his company. I swallowed the ache in my chest and said calmly, "No, this is enough." I signed and left. When I got into the car, the center screen lit up and asked for the unlock code. By habit, I entered 0101. It was wrong. Then I tried 0707, and the system unlocked. Nathan's w******p handle was vl0707. He had told me that seven was his lucky number, and I had foolishly believed him. Only now did I realize that the letters were Vivian Lane's initials and the numbers marked her birthday. It reminded me of when we bought the car 4 years earlier. I used my own birthday, 0101, for every electronic password. Because his code was similar, I entered mine by mistake several times and finally changed the car's password to 0101. Nathan later got into the car for a business appointment and failed to unlock it. He called me at work, furious, and demanded to know whether I had changed the password without his permission. I patiently explained. He hung up without a word. The next time I used the car, the password had already been changed back. After that, Nathan shut me out. He slept in another room, left before dawn every morning, and ignored every message I sent. He only began speaking to me again after I promised never to change another setting in the car. The memory brought back an old, bitter ache. I drove faster, as though enough distance could separate me from the life I had lived with him. I called a friend who worked in real estate and found an apartment.