Chapter 3

I couldn't breathe.

It felt like the air was sucked out of the room. My body, my baby, my potential surgery-all just line items on his spreadsheet.

"My... body's... issue," I repeated, the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat.

Kevin didn't flinch. He was on a roll.

"It's just about being logical, Chloe. We can't let emotions dictate our finances right now."

He scrolled to the last section of his masterpiece of cruelty.

"Finally, household management," he announced. "Mom is giving up her time to be here, to cook and clean and prepare for the baby. It's a full-time job. So, we'll be paying her a monthly salary."

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. There wasn't one.

"How much?" I whispered.

"Two thousand, five hundred dollars a month," he said, without a trace of shame. "For her household management services. And, of course, we'll split that. Twelve-fifty each."

I looked at Brenda. She was now beaming, a wide, triumphant grin spreading across her face. She had done zero cooking and zero cleaning since she arrived. Her main activity was complaining about the Seattle rain.

The pain in my chest was sharp and deep. It wasn't just about the money. It was the complete and utter disregard. They saw me as a machine, a wallet, a host body. Not a wife, not a daughter-in-law, not the mother of their child and grandchild.

All the love I thought I had for him curdled into something hard and cold.

I looked at his smug face, at his mother's greedy eyes.

And in that moment, I knew my marriage was over.

But I didn't cry. I didn't scream.

I took a slow, deep breath. I looked at the spreadsheet, at all his neat little columns and his cruel, ridiculous numbers.

"Okay," I said, my voice eerily calm. "That all seems... very logical."

Kevin's shoulders relaxed. He smiled. "I knew you'd understand."

"I do," I said. "I really, really do. Let me just sleep on it. We can finalize everything tomorrow night."

He and his mother exchanged a look of pure victory.

They had no idea what was coming.