Chapter 3

The next morning, the sun mocked me.

I waited until I heard movement inside, then walked to the front door and rang the bell.

Jessica opened it, dressed in a silk robe, looking surprised, then annoyed.

"Michael? What are you doing out here? I thought you were..."

"You changed the codes," I said. My voice was flat.

"Oh, that. Yes. Security upgrade. I meant to tell you." She didn't meet my eyes.

Sophie peeked around her legs, then quickly hid.

"I want a divorce, Jessica."

She blinked. Then a small, incredulous laugh escaped her.

"A divorce? Michael, don't be ridiculous. Over a security code?"

"It's not about the code, Jessica. It's about everything."

Her parents appeared behind her, summoned by the raised voices, or perhaps by instinct.

Mr. Ashworth looked stern. "Michael, what is the meaning of this?"

"I'm leaving," I said. "I'm divorcing Jessica."

"Don't be a fool," Mrs. Ashworth said, her voice like chipped ice. "Where would you go? What would you do?"

That was the crux of it, wasn't it? They thought I had no options.

"I don't want anything," I told Jessica, my gaze steady. "Not the house, not the car, not a cent of Ashworth money. I'll sign whatever you want."

"And Sophie?" Jessica asked, a flicker of something – triumph? – in her eyes.

"You'll have full custody. It' s better for her. She' s an Ashworth."

Sophie looked up, a strange mix of confusion and something else... relief?

Relief that she wouldn't have to choose, or pretend.

"I'm also quitting the job," I added, looking at Mr. Ashworth.

He scoffed. "You're throwing away everything we've given you."

"I'm reclaiming what I gave up," I said.

Jessica still thought it was about the lockout. She couldn't see the seven years of resentment piled up behind that one night.

She couldn't see that I was finally, truly, done being grateful.