Chapter 4 - The Art of Starting Over
Three days later, I was sitting in a small, sunlight-dappled diner in Columbia, Missouri—a college town two hundred miles south of Chicago.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee, crisp bacon, and maple syrup filled the cozy air. Outside the window, students walked past carrying heavy backpacks, their laughter floating through the crisp autumn breeze.
I took a sip of hot black coffee from a thick ceramic mug. Across the small formica table sat Sarah Jenkins, my best friend from my undergraduate days at Mizzou.
Sarah hadn't changed a bit in eight years. She still wore round wire-rimmed glasses, had her wild curls tied up in a messy bun, and ran the same independent art restoration studio downtown that we had dreamed of opening together when we were twenty-two.
Sarah set down her fork, her eyes wide with shock as she finished reading the draft of the divorce petition my attorney had emailed me that morning.
"He actually said those exact words?" Sarah whispered, her knuckles white against her coffee cup. "On the stairs? While you were wearing the dress he bought?"
"Word for word," I said calmly. "And he told his family he was waiting for his firm's multi-million-dollar acquisition deal to go through before filing for divorce so I wouldn't be entitled to a higher settlement share."
Sarah let out a profanity that made an elderly couple at the next table turn around.
"That absolute, narcissistic bastard!" Sarah fumed. "Five years, Evelyn! You gave up your job at the St. Louis museum for him! You moved to Chicago for his career! You let his awful mother dictate what color lipstick you wore!"
"I let him do it," I corrected her gently, looking down at my hands. "That was my mistake, Sarah. I thought if I smoothed down my edges, if I became quieter, if I fit into his world, he would love me more. But you can't make someone love you by making yourself invisible."
Sarah reached across the table and squeezed my hand tightly. "So what's the plan now? Are you staying in Columbia?"
"I signed a six-month lease on a studio apartment above the old bakery on Cherry Street this morning," I smiled faintly. "It has high ceilings, exposed brick walls, and huge windows that catch the morning sun."
"And money?"
"I have my father's fifty thousand dollars," I said. "And my lawyer, Clara Vance—no relation, luckily—filed a motion in Cook County yesterday for temporary spousal support and an emergency freeze on all joint financial accounts."
Sarah grinned, a dangerous, triumphant look in her eyes. "Wait. Did you say a financial freeze?"
"Grant's personal assets are tied up in his firm's capital requirements for the Langford deal," I explained, leaning back in the booth. "By law, during a contested divorce proceeding in Illinois, neither party can transfer, liquidate, or pledge major marital assets without court approval or written consent from the spouse."
Sarah’s eyes lit up as she put the pieces together. "Which means... he can't use his personal capital share to close the Langford acquisition unless you sign off on it?"
"Or unless he agrees to my terms," I said quietly.
My phone on the table began to vibrate.
The screen displayed Grant's caller ID. Over the past seventy-two hours, he had called me forty-seven times and sent dozens of text messages ranging from cold legal threats to frantic, insincere apologies.
I didn't answer. I slid the phone across the table to Sarah.
"Watch this," I said.
A moment later, a text message popped up on the lock screen:
Evelyn, your lawyer just filed a freeze order on my accounts. Are you insane?! This endangers the entire Langford deal! Call me right now!
Sarah read the text, threw her head back, and laughed loudly.
May you like
"Oh, how the turns have tabled," Sarah cackled. "The 'embarrassment' just put a chokehold on his entire career."
"I don't want to ruin him, Sarah," I said, looking out the window at the golden trees lining the street. "I just want what is mine. I want my dignity back. And I want him to realize that the girl from the transmission shop was never someone he could walk over."
