When the sun started to rise, I closed the folder and tucked it back into place.

I was not ready yet. But I was no longer afraid.

Gavin came home at 8:00 that evening. I was in the kitchen, wearing the same worn-out robe he had never once offered to replace. Mia was already asleep, her exhaustion from yesterday’s school activities dragging her down early.

“I think we need to talk,” he said, standing in the doorway like he still held all the power.

“No. You need to talk. I need to listen.”

That was never how it worked between us. Gavin was always the one who talked, and I was always the one who adjusted, adapted, compromised. I had become an expert at making small spaces feel bigger, at making nothing feel like enough.

“I said it was an accident,” he started. “But I realize I need to explain, because you’re making this into something bigger than it is.”

“Bigger than it is? You paid thirty-two hundred dollars a month for an apartment for her, Gavin.”

“For the company,” he insisted. “It was a corporate residence.”

“Did she work from that corporate residence at 2 a.m. too? Or is that when she was performing her other job duties?”

He flinched. “Stop making this vulgar.”

Camila was six months older than me. She had a degree from a decent university and taste that cost more than my entire wardrobe. I had watched her ascend in Summit Crest’s hierarchy while I descended into the basement of my own home, and every single step she took up the corporate ladder had been paid for by the money that was supposed to be securing our family’s future.

“Was she the one who told you to speak to me like that?” I asked quietly.

“Like what?”

“Like my opinions don’t matter. Like my time has no value. Like I’m just a piece of furniture you keep at home.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. For the first time in three years, he had no quick answer.

I stayed calm as I spoke again. “I want a divorce.”

“Nora—”

“I want a divorce, and I want full custody of Mia.”

“You can’t afford to take care of her,” he laughed. “I’m the one who provides.”

I let those words hang in the air between us. The kitchen light hummed above us, and I realized he had never once asked me if I was happy or satisfied or fulfilled. He had never once asked me what I wanted to do with my time or my life or my potential.

He had only ever asked me to be smaller.

“You’re right,” I said, my voice steady. “I can’t afford to take care of her on the money you’ve been giving me.”

“Finally, you’re being sensible.”

“But I can afford to take care of her on the money my father left me.”

He stopped moving. “What money?”

“Sixty-one point four million dollars.”

Gavin went so pale I thought he was going to faint. His jaw worked open and closed like a fish gasping for water.

“That’s not funny, Nora.”

“It’s not a joke. My father left me shares in Apex Vanguard. I just never opened the statements because you told me you would handle all the finances. Remember?”

His eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape. “Sixty-one million… dollars? And you’ve been letting me pay for everything?”

“Letting you pay for everything? I’ve been living on eighteen hundred dollars a month, Gavin. I’ve been counting pennies and skipping meals while you funded a secret life with a woman who wears necklaces that cost more than our kitchen.”

“S-s-so you, you’ve been lying to me?”

I laughed at the audacity. “I’ve been lying to you? You’ve been telling me for three years that we couldn’t afford things while you were spending over a hundred thousand dollars on jewelry for your mistress.”

“Wait,” he said, his brain finally catching up. “If you have all that money, the court will give me half.”

“Will it? The money came from my father’s estate. It was placed in a generation-skipping trust that I only have limited access to. The trustee has to approve large distributions, and the trust documents explicitly state that no funds go to any spouse in the event of a divorce.”

His mouth opened and closed again.

“You can check with your lawyer,” I said calmly. “But I already checked with mine.”

That was the moment I walked into the bedroom, pulled out my phone, and called Charles.

“Change of plans,” I told him. “I’m leaving him.”

“Are you sure, Nora?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Then let me arrange a temporary residence for you and Mia. I have a two-bedroom apartment in the Maplewood district that my family owns. It’s empty and ready. You can move in as early as tomorrow.”