He Tried to Cheat Me, I Took Back My Rights

The day I discovered my husband Mateo Larsen's affair, I was ironing the shirt he was going to wear for tomorrow's meeting. A photo popped up on my phone from an unknown number. In it, he was holding a young girl in his arms, laughing and kissing under the Eiffel Tower. I didn't cry or make a scene. I pressed that shirt until it was crisp and perfectly smooth. Then, right in front of him, I cut up all his custom-made suits with scissors and threw his luggage out the front door. "Get out. I hope you two live happily ever after." ***** Mateo Larsen came back the next day. "Zoey," he said, sliding the divorce papers in front of me. "Just admit you were wrong, and I can pretend last night never happened." I looked at those papers that would leave me with nothing, and all I could do was laugh. Seeing that I didn't respond, he grew impatient. "You've had your tantrum. Cutting up my clothes, changing the locks—I can let all that slide. But you'd better think carefully. Without me, how are you going to survive?" He looked down at me as if the answer were already obvious. "And I'm not going to sugarcoat this. I've already moved the company assets out of reach. If we really get divorced, you won't see a dime. You might walk away with debt." "And your point is?" I looked at him. "My point is, if you insist on dragging this out, sign the agreement." Mateo sounded confident again. "Out of respect for the three years we were married, I'll give you five thousand a month in alimony. That's more than enough for someone like you to live on. Let's be honest, Zoey. Who's going to hire a housewife that's been out of the field for years?" I looked at him, and suddenly remembered the day he proposed to me three years ago. Back then, he had held my hands and said, "Zoey, marry me. I'll take care of you for the rest of our lives." I picked up my phone and hit play. Mateo's voice filled the room. "So what if I moved the money? I earned it! And let me make one thing very clear, Zoey Wheeler! If we get divorced, you're not getting a dime from me! I already made sure of that! You can walk out of this marriage with nothing!" The smile drained from his face. "You recorded me?" He lunged for the phone. "Mateo," I said evenly, "now that you've admitted you hid marital assets, this agreement needs to be redrafted. What's mine stays with me. I'm not signing away a cent." His eyes went bloodshot with fury. "Don't push me, Zoey! I can make sure no one in this industry ever looks at your resume again! One phone call, Zoey, and every firm in this city shuts its door in your face!" Just then, his phone rang. "Mateo, where are you? Weren't we supposed to go to Hermès at noon? I've been waiting for half an hour... Did you run back to your pathetic wife again? You promised me you were divorcing her..." Mateo ended the call so fast he almost dropped the phone. "Your girlfriend sounds like she's getting impatient." He opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. "That's none of your business..." "You're right," I said. I tore the divorce papers neatly in half. "It's not. This agreement is dead. Tell your lawyer to draft one that isn't insulting." "Zoey!" He snapped. "Don't come crawling back when you realize what you've done!" I walked into the study without looking back. That room had once been mine. After the wedding, it had slowly become a place for things no one cared enough to put away. My drafting tools were still there. So were my design awards. And on the back shelf, exactly where I had left it, sat my mother's old sketchbook. My phone buzzed in my hand. It was Mateo. Mateo: Without me, you're nothing! Mateo: You really think that recording gives you leverage? Dream on! Mateo: I'm giving you one last chance! Sign by tonight, or I stop being nice! I blocked the number. I had just set my phone down when another call came in from a number I didn't recognize. "Is this Zoey?" The woman's voice was familiar in a distant, half-remembered way. "It's Lisa Marin. We went to architecture school together. Do you remember me?" "I do." She let out a breath of relief. "Okay, good. I'll get straight to it. I work for the city planning office now, and there's a community library that desperately needs help. It's an old building, and it's practically falling apart, but the budget is tiny, and nobody's willing to take on the renovation." She paused, almost apologetic. "You were the first person I thought of. But I should warn you, the money is terrible. Honestly, it's basically charity work..." My fingers tightened around the phone as my gaze moved to my mother's sketchbook. At that exact moment, Mateo texted me again from a different number. Mateo: Zoey, don't push your luck! "How soon do you need to start?" I asked. "The timeline's brutal. Construction starts next month." I walked to the window and watched Mateo's car pull out of the complex before disappearing around the corner. "Send me the materials," I said. "I'll take the project."