About thirty minutes after I got home, Jack showed up.
The kid was at Jenny's—she offered to babysit so we could "talk."
We sat on the couch, quiet.
Ten minutes in, Jack finally said, "Since you saw everything... let's just get a divorce."
I stared out the window.
"It's not Jenny's fault. It's on me."
Still defending her. Unreal.
I didn't say a word. Just rubbed my hands—calloused, cracked, frostbitten. Years of driving had wrecked them.
They looked like dried-up radishes.
Not like Jenny's perfect little porcelain hands.
No wonder Jack wouldn't let her touch a dish.
"You even listening?" he snapped. "Let's divorce. You keep the house. We split savings. Kid chooses who to stay with."
I looked at him, dead serious.
"The house still has a mortgage. Savings are crap. If I take it, you'll still come sniffing for more. And Willy? He's clearly on your team. Same old Jack—cheap as ever. Lemme guess, Jenny helped you rehearse this?"
Jack ignored the jab. Just kept rambling.
"Yeah, there's a mortgage. But the location's solid. You could rent it out. Paying it off won't be hard."
I snorted. "Easy for you to say. I've been making those payments solo. You haven't dropped a dime."
Jack hadn't had a real job in five years. Just bounced between random gigs for beer money. Never once stepped up.
If I hadn't seen him babying Jenny, I would have figured he was just emotionally dead.
How did I ever fall for this guy?
The more I thought about it, the more unreal it felt.
We were mid-argument when someone started banging on the door. Took a few knocks before we even noticed.
I opened it. Jenny. Puffy eyes, holding Willy's hand.
She walked right in, all teary-eyed.
"Ruth, don't blame Jack. It's on me. I was just... lonely. I leaned on him too much. I even talked to Willy—he knows he should apologize. He's your son. Hitting you wasn't right."
She fake-dabbed at invisible tears.
Under her little act, Willy mumbled a sorry.
"He's just a kid. He didn't mean it. He'll be better," she said, like she was his mom now.
I didn't budge. Then she tried to shove him at me.
I knew what this was— she wanted me to take Willy so she could play house with Jack, no baggage in the way.
Yeah, no.
I stood up and threw the door open.
"Save the sweet-girl routine. None of you are staying. Jack, we're filing tomorrow. The kid's yours."
They just stood there, stunned.
Didn't matter. I pushed them out without blinking.
Ten years playing the fool? I was done. Let someone else wear the clown hat.
***
Next morning, I hit the lawyer's office before it even opened. Jack was a no-show.
I called a few times—he finally rolled up.
And of course, he brought Jenny.
Like a ghost that just wouldn't die.
"We're here to get divorced. Why bring her? She got a PhD in divorces now?"
Jenny had split three years ago, snagged the kid and the apartment next door, then moved right in.
I only got close because I felt bad watching her struggle.
"We just dropped the kids off. Figured I'd bring her along," Jack said.
I didn't even look at them. Rolled my eyes and walked into the lawyer's office.
The lawyer raised a brow—three people walking in? Definitely not standard. But he dove right in.
"Any property? How are you splitting it?"
Jack shrugged. "She can have it. I don't want it."
"Who said I do?" I shot back. "I don't want it either."
The lawyer blinked. "Then..."
Jack turned to me. "You sure?"
"That place is perfect for your parents, right? Why would I want it?"
I said it sharp. Jack had nothing. I never wanted that dump. A gallon of milk meant a five-mile drive.
Only Jack and his parents would fall for some sketchy fortune-teller who swore the land had "good energy." They bought it without even asking me. I caved back then—but I sure wasn't getting stuck with it now.
"I don't want the apartment," I said. "I didn't pay the down payment, fine. But I've been covering that loan for years. I want that money back. And we're splitting the savings."
Jenny tried to hide a smile. Too bad.
After a mess of back and forth, we finally signed the divorce cooling-off paperwork.
Final deal: Jack got the kid and the apartment. I got the savings. And he owed me every penny I'd put into the loan—plus the apartment's price bump.
I'd stay in the apartment until they came up with the cash. Then I was out.
Jenny didn't look thrilled. But hey—Jack was the one who cheated. She didn't get to complain.
Outside the lawyer's office, I looked across at the County Clerk's building, kinda dazed.
Ten years ago, Jack and I stood there too—same gray sky, totally different mood.
It wasn't Valentine's or some wannabe couple's day. We just got up early and lined up first.
We had nothing—no rings, no cash, not even a proper photo. Just a blurry strip from a janky booth.
Still thought love would carry us. Thought it was enough.
I forgot a heart's just another organ. After ten years, ours had burned out.
Once Jack and Jenny left, I left, too.
We caught each other's eye, then walked off in opposite directions.
Jack called after me.
"I'll come by later to grab my stuff. I'll hand over the keys then."
I just muttered, "Mm," and kept walking—never looked back.
***
By 3 PM, Jack showed up with Jenny and both kids.
I was still packing up in the living room when I heard them laughing in the hall.
"Dad! Dad! I get to play with Pete and sleep in the same room every day now?"
"Yep. You, me, Jenny, and Pete—we're a family now."
"Yay! I finally have a pretty mommy too!"
"Haha, what a sweet-talker you are."
Their laughter echoed down the hallway like static.
To me, it sounded like a siren—loud, sharp, and straight-up painful.