Nicole surprisingly consents to give Mike everything in their divorce after a tense marriage characterized by his fixation with worldly wealth. However, as Mike celebrates his “victory,” Nicole’s laughing betrays a covert plot in progress. Mike is unaware that she is going to make her last move.‘
I looked like the defeated ex-wife as I left the lawyer’s office, my shoulders hunched and my face expressionless. It was raining heavily, and the dismal sky reflected my mood, or at least the one I wanted everyone to believe I was in.
I was buzzing inside. As I made my way to the elevator, my palms gripped the chilly steel door handle. There was nobody. Excellent.
With a gentle ping, the elevator door closed behind me, and I burst out laughing as soon as I was by myself. It sprang from deep within like champagne that has finally been uncorked; it was not anything I had planned.
It grew stronger the more I considered what I had just done, until I was laughing uncontrollably on the elevator.
If someone had seen me at that moment, they would have assumed that I had finally lost it and had lost my mind from all the stress, but this was only the beginning. Everything was coming together just right.
Mike could have the savings, the car, and the house. That was precisely what I desired. The nicest part was that he believed he had won. He had no idea what was going to happen.
I gathered myself when the elevator abruptly halted. I looked at my image on the mirrored wall of the elevator: unkempt hair, weary eyes, and a small smile that was still on my lips. I didn’t give a damn. It was going to be enjoyable.
A couple weeks prior to that…
Years had passed since Mike and I had been happy, but it wasn’t your typical breakup. Mike was fixated on his appearance. He was all about wearing only designer clothing, owning the largest house on the block, and having ostentatious cars.
I had been playing my part for too long, and it was all a performance. The fissures had begun to emerge, and as the disputes increased in frequency, I realized that the inevitable was imminent.
The problem is that I didn’t find the divorce frightening. I knew exactly how this would turn out because I knew Mike.
He had little interest in keeping the marriage intact. He wanted to win, win the money, win the divorce, win the house.
I really wanted to get away from this ostentatious way of living. However, that did not imply that I would allow him to defraud me either. I would therefore give Mike what he desired, but with a fishhook-sharp catch.
It took place on Tuesday. Once more, Mike arrived home late. He barged in while I was in the kitchen, feigning to browse through my phone without looking up.
“We need to talk.”
I sighed, my voice scarcely concealing the boredom. “What now?”
I could almost feel the frustration pouring from him as he smashed his keys on the counter. When things didn’t go his way at work, he always got like this, and I was the easiest target, of course.
“I’m done,” he murmured in a tight, quiet voice. “I want a divorce.”
I gave him a blink. At last. I nodded slowly as if it were taking in the information, but in reality, I had spent weeks getting ready for this.
“Okay,” was all I said.
He scowled, obviously surprised. “Is that all? Not a fight? “No pleading?”
I gave a shrug. “What’s the point?”
For a moment, he appeared perplexed, as if I had deflated him. He was anticipating opposition and thought I would beg him to stay.
All I had to do was make sure he had enough rope to hang himself.
The divorce proceedings were just as terrible as I had anticipated. Mike laid out all of his requirements as we sat across from one another in a sterile conference room with attorneys on either side. He seemed to be reading from a grocery list—the savings, the house, and the automobile.
