I Got Divorced

I was at the mall with my ex-husband, buying clothes for our child, while his current wife kept calling him incessantly.

My ex-husband had no choice but to lie, saying he was in a meeting at the office.

However, she heard the mall's background noise and became even more hysterical, refusing to let it go.

His face was full of annoyance and disgust, yet he was forced to calm her down despite his clear irritation.

I watched coldly from the side, feeling a sense of satisfaction.

In the past, he had been with that woman and treated me the same way.

The tables had turned, and now they got a taste of their own medicine.

At twenty, he was a good man; by thirty, he had changed.

Terry Slater and I had been married for five years, and just three months ago, our daughter Lucy Slater was born.

By all accounts, life should have been blissful.

But when Lucy was just a month old, he brought up divorce.

Terry and his lover sat in the living room, openly holding hands, their faces showing unwavering determination.

I was the only obstacle in their path to happiness.

"We should get a divorce," Terry calmly repeated, fearing I hadn't heard him clearly.

At that moment, our daughter lay in the master bedroom crib, crying loudly.

Her diaper was only half-changed, and she was uncomfortable.

Terry's proposal stunned me for a moment, but Lucy's cries brought me back to reality.

I no longer cared about their petty issues and hurried to fetch a new diaper for the bedroom.

However, my actions triggered his lover's anxiety.

Noelle Sutton was truly anxious.

After plotting for so long, she was finally on the verge of success, yet I remained unmoved.

She suddenly rushed over and grabbed me directly.

"Vanessa Slater, I'm sorry," she cried, "Please let go! We're all suffering."

Her words finally made me look at them directly.

Terry's face was filled with guilt and hesitation, a clear conflict in his expression.

Our daughter was crying, yet he stood there, watching his lover block me.

Terry couldn't bring himself to meet my eyes.

Seeing me staring at him, his gaze shifted, and he simply said, "Noelle... and I are sincere."

I looked at him.

I said nothing.

He pursued me for three years, cried in front of family and friends on our wedding day, promising to treat me well. We supported each other for seven years, and our baby had just turned a month old.

But now, he claimed they were the ones truly sincere.

Were all these years a lie?

Finally, I spoke.

I told Noelle, "I'm not suffering; you are. You chose to be the other woman. Legally and morally, I am his wife."

Noelle's expression twisted for a moment.

She broke down.

Clearly, she cared deeply about this title and everything it entailed.

What else could she care about? True love?

Just moments ago, she was tearfully pleading; now, having hit a sore spot, she stopped pretending.

She clung to me, gripping my arm tightly, her sharp nails nearly digging into my flesh. "Vanessa, you're still young; you have plenty of choices! Why are you being so stubborn?"

"Yes, you're so young, " I said with a sarcastic smile, "You have so many choices. Why choose to be the other woman, a mistress, living in secrecy and shame?"

Noelle was caught off guard as I tore away her facade.

She screamed and started crying again.

At this point, Terry couldn't stand it anymore.

He pushed me away.

Already tightly held by Noelle, I was caught off guard by his push, lost my balance, stumbled backward, and fell to the ground.

Suddenly, the world seemed absurd.

I had just finished my postpartum recovery period, hadn't returned to work, and was physically weak, yet my husband knocked me to the ground.

Meanwhile, our daughter was crying loudly in the master bedroom.

Her cries echoed through the half-open door, intermittent.

My husband, the child's father, stood there as if he were some kind of hero for his despicable actions, standing up against imaginary foes to protect the woman he loved most.

He stood there, proud and imposing.

Hearing our daughter's cries from the bedroom, I gritted my teeth and said, "Fine, it's time to divorce."

Terry was thirty-one this year, the same age as me.

Compared to many peers, we were late in having a child.

We were college sweethearts, married after graduation, and after ten years of love, Terry found his true love this year.

Life was ironic.

Our divorce was straightforward.

The assets were easy to divide, no work entanglements, no debts.

But it involved child custody.

Terry's intentions were clear: he believed our daughter Lucy should be with him.

He was in his thirties, and this was his first child.

Giving up assets was easy, but he found it hard to let go of the child.

I refused to let go as well.

Terry was still young, and having gotten involved with Noelle, he would inevitably have more children in the future.

What would my daughter's situation be then?

My marriage was already a disaster; I wouldn't let my daughter suffer too.

But Lucy was only three months old, still in the breastfeeding period.

Her custody was obvious.

Even our lawyer friends advised Terry not to dwell on it, or else with the divorce cooling-off period, it would drag on endlessly.

Terry was still dissatisfied and frustrated, but he couldn't resist Noelle's urging-she was too eager to see us separated and herself take the lead.

In the end, Terry had no choice but to agree.

But to retain his visitation rights and to appease me-perhaps with a hint of guilt in his heart.

In terms of assets, he made considerable concessions.

This sparked Noelle's dissatisfaction.

They even had a minor argument over it.

When the news reached me, I remained calm.

Having known Terry for so many years, I understood him well.

His insistence on custody was merely to show the world that our separation was due to a natural breakdown in our relationship, and he was willing to take responsibility for the child.

He was still considered respectable in society.

We had been together for so long, our social circles overlapped significantly, and he needed to maintain his reputation for future interactions.

So, even if it meant having disputes with Noelle, he had to act this way.

Regarding this matter, I simply scoffed, "You can visit her if you want. The child support must not be reduced, and all educational expenses until our daughter reaches adulthood will be your responsibility."

Terry agreed immediately.

The request was reasonable; he didn't want to be accused of neglecting his own flesh and blood.

However, this touched Noelle's bottom line.

She uncharacteristically dropped her sweet and obedient persona and lashed out at Terry and me when the lawyer was absent.

Noelle was very displeased, "Vanessa, you earn quite a bit! Why should Terry pay so much? Terry and I will have our own family and children in the future. Why should we pay for your child's tuition?"

In this emotional battle, she had already won, while I had retreated step by step.

Her arrogance as the victor was understandable.

Terry tugged at her but didn't stop her aggressive behavior.

I calmly replied, "Even if Terry and I are separated, we are still Lucy's biological parents. As such, we must take responsibility. This is the law. If you're unhappy, there's nothing I can do. You can choose not to pay," I said, looking at Terry. "I'll submit the documents to the court and request a fair judgment. If the court rules you don't need to pay child support, I won't have anything to say."

Terry felt his reputation was at stake.

He had been doing well these past few years and was now an executive at a listed company.

Reputation matters, and with a million-dollar annual salary, being sued by an ex-wife for not paying child support would be a disgrace.

How would he continue in his social circles?

At that moment, he pulled Noelle back, forcibly seated her, his face cold, his tone icy, "Stop this nonsense."

It was probably the first time he spoke to Noelle like that, leaving her in disbelief.

It wasn't about the money for her.

What she cared about was the existence of Lucy.

It was because of this child that she pressured Terry to divorce me, even putting her reputation on the line, confronting me right after childbirth.

I could have children; Noelle was young and could have them too.

But she couldn't continue wasting her youth, forever being seen as the other woman.

Moreover, after this incident, she lost her job.

In our company, I held a higher position than her, being Noelle's superior.

Any employee who disrupted their superior's family life faced severe consequences.

Without a job, she had to become Mrs. Slater.

Seeing me sign the divorce agreement, Noelle could only exert herself to repress her underlying discontent.

After all, she had gotten what she wanted.

As for other matters, paying a little more didn't matter.

Once the property division and custody arrangements were settled, we signed the divorce agreement and filed for divorce at the office, waiting for the mandatory waiting period before finalizing the divorce.

After leaving the office, I suddenly turned to Terry.

Noelle, seeing my movement, immediately clung defensively to Terry's arm.

"Could you give me a little more time?" I pleaded softly, "The child is too young. There's so much stuff at home. My leave is almost over, and I need to return to work. It'll take some time to move out."

Currently, we lived in our marital home, a flat of about 150 square meters.

In the divorce, it was given to Terry, and I had to move out.

This reason was hard to refuse.

Terry agreed without hesitation, not even considering Noelle's expression.

After all, a single mother struggling to manage on her own, with so many belongings and such a large house to move out of, was indeed challenging.

He reassured me, "It's only right, don't rush."

It was impossible for him not to feel any guilt or hesitation.

Whether for peace of mind or to show his good nature, Terry specifically reminded me, "You can stay as long as you need. If there's anything you need, let me know."

I pretended to be grateful, knowing full well that during the property division, he also received a small apartment.

That place would surely turn into a love nest for him and Noelle.

Noelle's face darkened considerably, but she still came over with a forced smile and said to me, "This is how it should be. If you need any help, be sure let us know. I know a moving company that's very reliable. I'll arrange it for you. They'll come right over and pack everything up quickly. Moreover, you've got a small apartment too. If you and your daughter living in such a large space would feel empty and lifeless."

Anyone with eyes could see her intention-it was to force me out.

"Lucy is too young. Moving isn't the same for children as it is for adults," I replied.