I Paid for Our Marriage, Then Signed It Away

Summary

The clock read six in the morning when I got up to make Avery’s oatmeal. Her stomach was delicate, so this was a non-negotiable part of my daily routine.

At nine, she slammed a set of divorce papers on the dining table. “Just sign them,” she said, her voice as cold as the marble tabletop. “There’s no point in dragging this out.”

I walked over, the bowl of oatmeal still in my hand. I flipped to the third page: division of assets. The house and the car were both listed under her name. I turned to the last page.