“We’re doing fine. You don’t need to worry.”
Miss Davis came in with a file and placed it on the glass table. She asked both of us to carefully read the sections on asset division, child support, and visitation rights one last time before signing.
The only sound in the office was the quiet rustling of paper. I read every line, not missing a single detail.
Everything was as I had demanded. I took a pen from my bag and signed my name firmly at the bottom of the page.
My handwriting was sharp and steady. When it was Daniel’s turn, his hand trembled.
He hesitated for a long time, looking at me, his eyes filled with regret and powerlessness. But faced with my cold expression, he seemed to realize that any effort was futile.
He slowly bowed his head and heavily wrote his name on the paper. Once the procedure was finished, Miss Davis collected the documents.
Before I left, Daniel looked up at me and asked in an earnest voice, “Jennifer, the court granted me the right to pay child support and see her. Can I come see Lily on Sunday afternoons? I’m still her father after all.”
I paused at the doorway and looked back at the man who was once my husband. Vengeance was not how I wanted to raise my child.
I answered honestly.
“I agree. You can come see her on Sunday afternoons, but please be on time and let me know in advance. I don’t want our routine to be disrupted.”
With those words, I opened the door and walked out. The warm autumn sunlight poured down on my face.
The glass door closing behind me put a final permanent end to my three years of a mistaken marriage. All the paperwork was done.
From this moment on, I was officially a free woman and a mother ready to face the long journey ahead.
The time after the legal proceedings was a series of busy but strangely peaceful days. With the money from the sale of the condo and the funds returned from Daniel, I had a decent nest egg.
I put half of it into a college fund for Lily and used the rest for living expenses. As my maternity leave was ending, I contacted my company, explained my situation, and requested to work from home.
Fortunately, thanks to my years of experience and proven capabilities, they agreed on the condition that I come into the office only on Monday mornings for meetings.
This decision allowed me to maintain a stable career while being present for my daughter’s growth. Life as a single mom demanded a high level of self-discipline.
Every day, I woke up at 5:00 a.m. while Lily was still sound asleep. I’d put on my running shoes and jog for 30 minutes on the country roads near my parents’ house.
The fresh morning air and the chirping of birds in the bamboo groves washed away the previous day’s fatigue. Back home, I’d shower, drink a glass of warm water, then turn on my computer and start working.
Around 7:00 a.m., my daughter would wake up, and the house would fill with the sound of her laughter. My parents would take turns looking after her, feeding her porridge, and helping me focus on my work.
I felt a bond of family I had never experienced living in that sterile, closed-off condo with Daniel.
On weekend afternoons when I had free time, I would sit on the porch and paint. I painted the flowers blooming in the yard, the sunset-streaked sky, my father’s wrinkled smile as he chopped firewood.
With every brush stroke, not only did color fill the paper, but the wounds in my heart also began to slowly heal. I realized that losing one terrible husband didn’t mean losing everything.
My life was still vast and colorful, filled with small joys as long as I was open to receiving them. My diligent work ethic paid off.
At the end of that year, I was recognized for successfully completing a major project for my department and was promoted to team leader along with a hefty year-end bonus.
The day I held the salary increase notice in my hand, I treated myself to a nice meal and bought a few new outfits. The reflection in the mirror was that of a neat, confident woman in her 30s.
The shadow of my past self was nowhere to be found. I had completely shed that dark period and had rebuilt a new, proud life with my own two hands.
Life flowed on peacefully.
Then one winter night, I had just put Lily to sleep and was about to sip a cup of hot tea and watch a show when my phone buzzed with a new Messenger notification.
After the divorce, I had blocked all contact from my former in-laws, leaving only Daniel’s number unblocked for communication about our daughter. I picked up the phone and saw it was a message from an unsaved, unfamiliar number.
But as soon as I read the first line, I knew exactly who it was.
“Jennifer, hello. How are you? It’s Chloe. I know you blocked my number, so I’m contacting you from someone else’s phone. Please don’t delete this message right away. I’m having a really hard time. The son I gave birth to is a few months old now. And Daniel abandoned us. He blamed me for everything, saying he lost his home, his family, and his job because of me. He’s a truly disgusting person. He just packed his things and disappeared without a trace, leaving me and my son in a tiny studio apartment with no money for living expenses. I regret everything so much. I guess this is karma.”
I read the words on the screen one by one. The mistress’s desperate plea didn’t move my heart in the slightest.
Maybe two years ago, when I had just discovered the truth, I might have felt a bit of satisfaction seeing the person who destroyed my family get her comeuppance.
But now, with my heart completely at peace, I regarded her words as nothing more than trivial street gossip. I took a sip of my warm tea.
The saying, “What goes around comes around,” was true. Daniel was a greedy transactional person who treated women as pawns for his own benefit.
The man who abandoned his devoted wife for a mistress was the same man who could ruthlessly discard that mistress the moment she became a liability.
Chloe had chosen the path of living off a married man’s money. And in the end, she was tripped up by her own dependency.
Their fight now was just a selfish game of shifting blame. Who was right? Who was wrong?
Who was the victim? And who was the fraud?
None of it had anything to do with my life anymore. I had no intention of replying, scolding, or lecturing.
The most painful punishment for traitors is not curses, but indifference. To treat them as strangers, not even worth a thought.
I pressed the delete button, erasing the message from my phone forever. And I immediately added the unfamiliar number to my block list.
I put my phone down on the desk, tucked Lily’s blanket back in, and stretched. Outside, the cold winter wind howled, but inside the small room, it was perfectly warm.
I had completely cleansed those awful people from my mind. Life is short.
I have no time to spare watching the miserable endings of others. My only mission was to live the rest of my life wonderfully for myself.
Time truly flies. Two years had passed since I walked out of the courthouse with my divorce papers.
This spring brought me a great joy. Thanks to my frugal living and performance bonuses, I was finally able to buy a small, sunny condo near my daughter’s preschool.
The two-bedroom home was painted a bright cream color. And on the balcony, I placed a few pots of my favorite moss roses.
This home was entirely in my name, a secure sanctuary I had built for me and my daughter with my own two hands.
Lily was now two years old, running around the house and learning to speak in babbling sentences. My parents would take the bus up to see their granddaughter whenever they had time, their hands full of vegetables and meat from their small farm.
The small apartment was always filled with laughter.
At 3:00 p.m. sharp on a Sunday afternoon, the doorbell rang. I wiped my hands on a towel and opened the door.
Standing there was Daniel holding a wooden toy box. For two years, he had consistently come to see our daughter once a week as agreed.
Time seemed to leave different marks on people. While I had gained some healthy weight and my complexion had improved, Daniel had aged noticeably.
There were streaks of gray at his temples, and his attire was no longer the neatly ironed shirts and suits of the past, but a faded, worn-out jacket. I had heard that due to his past scandals, his career wasn’t going well.
I opened the door wide and politely invited him in.
“Come in. Lily’s playing with her blocks in the living room.”
Daniel entered meekly, wiping his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside. He walked over to Lily, crouched down on the floor, and took out the new toys he had brought.
Lily, not at all shy, happily took the wooden blocks and started building a house. Daniel watched his daughter with a gaze full of deep regret.
He turned to me as I was pouring him a glass of water and said hesitantly, “Jennifer, your new place is really nice. Thank you so much for the past two years. After all the terrible things I did, you could have stopped me from seeing Lily. You could have taught her to hate me, but you didn’t. You let me keep seeing her. I’m so grateful for your generosity.”
I placed the glass of water on the table and replied calmly.
“It’s not because I’m generous. I just did what was right for my child to have a normal upbringing. The child is innocent. She has the right to be loved by both her father and mother. I didn’t want her to learn hatred because of adult mistakes. As long as you pay your child support on time and still love your daughter, I will respect that right. But what was between us ended a long time ago.”
Daniel lowered his head and said nothing more. He played with his daughter for about an hour and then left looking desolate.
As his figure disappeared behind the elevator doors, I quietly closed and locked my door. Returning to the living room, I swept Lily into my arms.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek with her small lips. The warm afternoon sun of early spring streamed through the balcony window, illuminating the room.
I held my daughter and looked out at the bustling streetscape below. Remembering the difficult days and the tears of the past, a smile of contentment spread across my face.
I had realized that a happy family does not necessarily require the presence of a husband. Happiness was in the courage to decisively cut off the things that cause pain and in the ability to stand on one’s own two feet and take responsibility for one’s own life.
The past half of my life felt like a long dream. Now I was awake and I was living days that were free, proud, and more peaceful than…