Chapter 8 - DIVORCE AND FREEDOM
I filed for divorce the same day. No alimony, no property claims against me, nothing they could fight. The paperwork was finalized in six weeks—Connor had no grounds, no leg to stand on.
I kept my house. I expanded my design business, taking on clients who’d heard what happened and wanted to work with someone who knew how to stand her ground. I started teaching basic financial literacy classes for women who’d been kept in the dark by partners or family.
One afternoon, I went to visit Connor in jail. He looked thinner, tired, the arrogance gone from his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew all that?” he asked quietly. “Why let her humiliate you like that?”
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“Because you both needed to show exactly who you are,” I said. “I needed everyone to see what you do when you think no one is watching. And I needed you to know: I was never weak. I was just waiting for the right moment.”
I didn’t visit Brenda. She’d made it clear from the start what she thought of me. I had nothing left to say.
