“What time do you need to leave?” Kaziah asked, pouring herself tea.
“By eleven, but I’m leaving early to make sure I’m on time. Probably ten or nine-thirty, just in case of traffic.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” she offered cautiously. “For support?”
Tavarius whipped around and looked at her as if she had suggested something obscene.
“For what?” he snapped. “This is Vance family business. You got nothing to do with it.”
Kaziah sipped her tea, feeling the hot liquid burn her throat.
Family business.
That meant she wasn’t family, even though they had lived together for five years and were legally married in the United States.
“Okay,” was all she said.
“Yeah, okay. Auntie Vernice is gonna be there with all her preaching. She always knows how to kill a vibe. I don’t need extra stress.”
He checked the mirror one last time, straightened his shirt, and grabbed his jacket.
“I’m out. I’ll be back when I’m back. Might need to go over documents with the lawyer later this evening.”
And he left without even saying goodbye.
The door slammed and Kaziah was left alone in the empty apartment.
She finished her now-cold tea, washed the cup, and got ready for work. The day promised to be long.
At the clinic, time dragged excruciatingly slow.
Kaziah answered calls mechanically, checked patients in, but her mind was far away. She kept thinking about what was happening at the lawyer’s office, what would happen next, how their lives would change if Tavarius actually received a large inheritance.
Would he become kind and attentive again? Or would he finally turn into the arrogant man she had been seeing in recent months?
During her lunch break, she tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. She sent a text: “How’s it going?”
The message showed as read, but there was no reply.
She got home around seven p.m. Tavarius wasn’t there. The apartment greeted her with silence and emptiness.
Kaziah heated up yesterday’s soup, ate, washed the dishes, then sat at the computer. Work didn’t stop. She had to finish a report, but she couldn’t focus. She kept listening for sounds in the hallway, waiting for the door to open.
Tavarius didn’t return until nine-thirty.
Kaziah heard the lock click, heard him walk into the entryway. She got up from the computer and went out to meet him.
“Well?” she asked, trying to read something—anything—on his face.
Tavarius stood in the doorway, a strange smile playing on his lips. Not joyful, not happy, but predatory.
“Everything is excellent,” he said, pulling off his jacket. “Even better than I thought.”
“And?” Kaziah took a step closer. “What happened?”
“An apartment,” Tavarius said, walking into the living room and flopping onto the sofa, leaning back. “Three bedrooms, twelve hundred square feet, right in downtown Indianapolis. A lake house property in the suburbs, a bank account, stocks in some company Granddaddy bought who knows when. The lawyer said, all in all, it’s about two million dollars, maybe more. Need to get an appraiser to count it all up.”
Kaziah sat on the edge of the armchair.
Two million dollars.
That was huge money. The kind she had never even dreamed of.
“Lord have mercy,” she exhaled.
“It’s a whole fortune,” Tavarius finished for her. “I’m rich now, Kez. Finally, that’s it. No more living in this dump. No more counting pennies. I’m buying a luxury condo, a Benz. I’m launching the business I never had the capital for. Everything is changing.”
He was saying “I,” not “we.”
Kaziah noticed, but stayed silent.
“When can you finalize everything?” she asked.
“Lawyer said a week or two. Need to gather some papers, assess the property, but those are formalities. The main thing is, the money is mine.”
He got up from the sofa and walked to the window. He stood there, looking at the evening city, at the lights of the houses.
Then he turned and looked at Kaziah with a long, appraising stare.
“You know, Kez, I got a lot to think about tonight,” he said suddenly, and his voice had a strange, cold edge to it. “So I’m gonna go over to Dion’s, chill with him, talk it over. I’ll be late. Don’t wait up.”
“But, Tav—”
“That’s it. I’m gone.”
And he left, slamming the door again.
Kaziah remained sitting in the armchair, staring at the empty space where her husband had just stood. And inside her, a cold, sticky feeling of dread began to grow.
For the next two days, Tavarius barely showed up at home.
He came in late at night when Kaziah was already asleep, left early in the morning. They barely spoke. He was immersed in his thoughts, in his plans, and it seemed there was no room for her in those plans.
And then the thing she least expected happened.
It was Sunday around noon.
Kaziah was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, reading the news on her phone. Outside the window, the Chicago spring sun was shining on the courtyard. Tavarius was home, but he had locked himself in the bedroom since morning, doing something on the computer.
Suddenly he came out, determination written all over his face.
“Kaziah, we need to talk,” he said, and his tone made her go cold inside.
“About what?” she asked, slowly putting down her phone.
Tavarius walked into the kitchen, got a glass from the cabinet, poured himself water, drank it in one gulp, then turned to her and said:
“I’ve been thinking. Thinking about a lot of things these past few days, and I realized one thing. You and me—we’re stuck. We’ve been treading water for years, and I don’t want to live like that anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Kaziah stood up from the table, feeling her heart beat faster.
“I mean, I need to move forward, start a new life, and you… you’re an anchor, Kez. You’re dragging me to the bottom.”
“Tavarius, what are you saying?” Her voice trembled.
“I’m saying we need to break up. I want a divorce.”
The words hung in the air and Kaziah couldn’t believe she had heard them.
Divorce.
He wanted a divorce—now, right when he got the money.
“Are you serious?” she squeezed out.
“Dead serious,” Tavarius answered coldly. “I’ve thought it all through. It’s the best decision for both of us. You’ll find someone who suits you, and I’ll start a new life.”
“We’ve lived together for five years,” Kaziah whispered, feeling her legs go weak. “Five years, Tavarius. I supported you all this time. I worked two jobs so you could pursue your projects. I—”
“And I’m grateful for that,” he interrupted indifferently. “Really. But gratitude ain’t love. And love left the building a long time ago. Let’s be real.”
“How can you say that?”
“I’m speaking the truth. We got used to each other, but that doesn’t mean we gotta be together forever. People change. I changed, and I need something else.”
Kaziah sank back onto the chair. Her legs wouldn’t hold her. There was a fog in her head and a pain in her chest so sharp she thought her heart would burst.
“You waited until you got the money,” she said quietly, staring at the floor. “That’s why you didn’t say anything before. You waited.”
Tavarius stayed silent.
And that silence was louder than any words.
“I packed your stuff,” he said finally. “It’s in the hallway. A suitcase and two bags. Everything’s there—clothes, makeup, books. You can pick up the rest later whenever you want.”
Kaziah raised her head and looked at him.
He stood with his arms crossed, looking down at her. And in that look there was no regret, no guilt—only cold, calm indifference.
“You’re kicking me out?” she asked, her voice sounding foreign and broken. “Right now?”
“The sooner the better,” he answered. “No need to drag out the goodbye. That only makes it harder.”
She stood up on trembling legs and walked slowly to the hallway.
Sure enough, there stood her suitcase and two duffel bags. He had actually packed her things. While she was at work yesterday, he had methodically folded her clothes, her personal items, preparing to put her out on the street.
“I prepped the divorce papers,” Tavarius said, following her into the hall.
He picked up some papers from the side table and handed them to her.
“It’s simple. No property claims, mutual consent. You just need to sign. I’ll file it at the county clerk myself. In a month, it’ll be finalized.”
Kaziah took the papers with shaking hands.
Her eyes scanned the lines, but she couldn’t focus, couldn’t read. The letters blurred.
“I don’t need you anymore,” Tavarius said, and mocking notes crept into his voice. “I’m rich now. You get it? I’m gonna have a new life—beautiful, successful. And you… you stay in your mediocrity, in your poverty. It suits you.”
He chuckled, looking at her pale face.
“Did you think I was gonna stay with you? Really? You thought I’d want to drag you to the top with me? Look at yourself. You’re a plain Jane, Kaziah. You’re a nobody, and you’ll never be the kind of woman a successful man needs.”
Every word was like a blow.
Kaziah stood and listened as the man she loved, to whom she’d given five years of her life, trampled her, humiliated her, tried to destroy her.
“And as for your ‘sacrifices’”—Tavarius made air quotes with his fingers—“that was your choice. Nobody forced you to work two jobs. You decided that yourself, so don’t come at me with complaints now.”
Kaziah looked at him for a long moment.
And suddenly, something inside snapped.
The pain didn’t go away, but something else settled over it—cold, hard dignity.
“Where do I sign?” she asked in a steady voice.
Tavarius looked confused for a moment. Evidently, he expected tears, begging, hysteria. But Kaziah stood calmly with her back straight, looking at him with a flat, unreadable gaze.
“Right here.” He pointed a finger at a line at the bottom of the page. “And here on the second page.”
Kaziah took the pen he offered and, with a steady hand, signed her name.
Once. Twice.
Done.
Five years of life crossed out with two strokes of a pen.
“Good,” Tavarius said, taking the documents back. “Excellent. Quick and no drama. I always knew you were a smart woman.”
He folded the papers, put them in a folder, then turned to the door and swung it open.
“Well, have a nice life,” he threw out with a smirk. “Or, as they say, good luck finding a new person to take care of you.”
Kaziah silently picked up the suitcase and one bag. They were heavy, but she didn’t even wince.
She stepped over the threshold, then came back for the second bag.
Tavarius stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, watching her with that nasty, self-satisfied smile.
“You know what, Kez?” he said when she grabbed the second bag. “I almost feel sorry for you. You’re a decent woman. Really. Just not on my level. You feel me? I’m playing in the big leagues now.”
Kaziah stopped on the threshold, turned her head, and looked at him.
She looked at this man she once loved for the last time—and realized there was nothing left. No love. Not even hate. Just emptiness.
“Goodbye, Tavarius,” she said quietly and firmly, and walked out without looking back.
Behind her, the door slammed, and she heard his laugh—a nasty, gloating laugh.
He was laughing at her back, enjoying his victory.
Kaziah walked down the stairs carrying the heavy bags and stepped out onto the street.
It was a bright spring day on the South Side. The sun was shining. Birds were singing. Life was going on regardless of anything.
And she stood in the middle of this life with two bags and a suitcase—homeless, husbandless, with a torn heart, but with her head held high.
She took out her phone and dialed her best friend, Tasha.
“Tasha, it’s me,” she said when her friend picked up. “Can I come over? I need a place to crash for a few days. I… I left Tavarius.”
Her voice finally cracked on the last words, but she pulled herself together. Now was not the time to fall apart. Later. Later there would be tears. Later there would be pain. Right now she just needed to get to Tasha’s—to a safe place where she could breathe and figure out what to do next.
“Girl, of course. Come on over,” Tasha’s worried voice came through the receiver. “What happened?”
“You tell me when you get here. I’m waiting for you.”
Kaziah called a Lyft, put her bags in the trunk, and sat in the back seat. And when the car started moving, when the familiar Chicago streets began to float by outside the window, she allowed herself to close her eyes.
Only then, in the darkness behind closed lids, did the first tears roll down.
Tasha met her at the door of her one-bedroom apartment with hot tea and a warm hug.
She didn’t ask unnecessary questions. She just helped carry the things in, sat Kaziah on the couch, and shoved a mug into her hands.
“Drink. Tell me later,” she said, sitting down next to her.
Kaziah told her everything—about the inheritance, about the last few months, about how Tavarius kicked her out today, laughing at her back.
She spoke quietly, without tears, because the tears had run out in the Lyft. Only a hollow emptiness remained inside.
“What a terrible person,” Tasha hissed when Kaziah finished. “What a complete mess of a man, Kez. I always sensed something was off with him. But you loved him, so I kept my mouth shut.”
“I did love him,” Kaziah answered quietly. “But apparently that wasn’t enough.”
The first few days she just existed.
She slept on the pullout couch, went to work, came back, ate something, went back to sleep—mechanically, without thoughts.
Tasha tried to get her to talk, to distract her, but Kaziah only shook her head and retreated into herself.
Her phone was silent.
Tavarius didn’t call, didn’t text, as if she had never existed in his life.
And then, on the fourth day, an unknown number called.
“Kaziah Vance?” a male voice asked when she answered.
She had taken his last name when they married.
“Yes, this is she.”
“This is the High Tower Law Firm,” the man said. “My name is attorney Thaddeus Sterling. I represent the estate of the late Eustace Vance. I need to meet with you regarding an inheritance matter.”
Kaziah was confused.
“But I’m not a relative,” she said. “That’s my ex-husband’s grandfather. We’re divorced. Well… the paperwork is being processed.”
“That is precisely why I need to meet with you urgently,” there was a certain urgency in the man’s voice. “It is very important. Can you come in today, say around three?”
Kaziah looked at her watch. It was eleven a.m. She was just getting ready for work.
“I can come at six, after work,” she said.
“Excellent. We’ll expect you at six. Do you know the address? Twelve hundred South Michigan Avenue, Suite 305.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
All day, Kaziah thought about this call.
Why did she need to go to the lawyer? What could possibly involve her in Tavarius’s grandfather’s inheritance? She barely knew the old man, saw him only twice.
At 6:15 p.m., she stood in front of the office door on South Michigan, hesitated, took a deep breath, and walked in.
In the reception area, a middle-aged woman in a strict suit sat at a desk.
“Good evening. I’m Kaziah Vance. I was called,” she said.
“Go right in. They’re waiting for you,” the woman nodded toward the office door.
Kaziah walked in.
At a large desk sat a man in his fifties with graying hair and an attentive gaze. And on a chair by the window sat an elderly woman in a black dress and a church hat.
Kaziah recognized her.
It was Auntie Vernice, the wife’s sister Tavarius had mentioned.
And standing next to her, against the wall, was Tavarius himself.
He looked pale. His eyes darted between the lawyer and Kaziah. When she entered, he twitched as if he wanted to say something, but stayed silent.
“Miss Vance, please have a seat,” the lawyer said, pointing to the chair opposite him.
She sat down, placing her purse on her lap. Her heart was beating somewhere in her throat.
“My name is Thaddeus Sterling. I am handling the estate of Eustace Vance,” the lawyer began. “I needed to find you urgently because a delicate situation has arisen.”
He opened a folder on the desk and took out several sheets of paper.
“The fact is, the deceased’s will contained a condition which I informed the heir about only in general terms at our first meeting. But now it is necessary to read it in full in the presence of all interested parties.”
Tavarius clenched his fists. Kaziah saw it in her peripheral vision, but tried to look only at the lawyer.
“I will read you the full text of the inheritance clause,” continued attorney Sterling, putting on his glasses.
“Quote: ‘All my property, including the apartment at 8 Central Street, the lake house property in rural Indiana, funds in Chase bank accounts, as well as the stock portfolio, I bequeath to my grandson, Tavarius Vladimir Vance. However, he may receive this inheritance only upon fulfillment of the following condition: at the time of claiming the inheritance, Tavarius Vance must be in a legal marriage with his current spouse, Kaziah Vance, continuously for a period of no less than one year from the moment of my death.”
The lawyer paused and looked over his glasses at Tavarius.
“Furthermore,” he continued, “in the event that the marriage is dissolved before the expiration of said term, or if at the time of my death, Tavarius Vance is not married to Kaziah Vance, all the aforementioned property shall transfer in full to Kaziah Vance as a person who has shown true nobility and dignity.’ End quote.”
Silence hung in the office.
Kaziah didn’t immediately understand what she had heard. The words came slowly, as if through cotton.
The inheritance goes to her if the marriage is dissolved.
And they had already signed the divorce papers.
“That… that’s impossible,” Tavarius squeezed out, stepping toward the desk. “That can’t be. Granddaddy couldn’t write that.”
“The will was drafted two years ago,” the lawyer replied calmly. “Notarized properly, signed in the presence of witnesses. It is absolutely legal.”
“But why?” Tavarius grabbed his head. “Why would he do that? I’m his grandson. His only grandson.”
Auntie Vernice rose heavily from her chair and looked at Tavarius with sadness.
“Because Eustace saw right through you,” she said quietly but firmly. “Two years ago, when he came to visit y’all in Chicago for the last time, he stayed with you for a couple of days. Remember?”
Tavarius was silent, his face turning white.
“He saw how you treat Kaziah,” the old woman continued. “How you boss her around. How you take advantage of her working two jobs. He saw that she is a good woman, and you are selfish and unkind. And that’s when he decided to change the will.”
“He came to my office,” the lawyer picked up. “He said he wanted to protect a decent person—that if you stayed married for at least a year after his death, it meant you two needed each other after all, and the inheritance would go to you. But if you divorced, it meant Kaziah deserved compensation for all the years she endured your relationship.”
“When did you file for divorce?” the lawyer asked, flipping through papers.
“I filed the application the day before yesterday,” Tavarius answered hollowly. “Expedited procedure. I paid extra to get it done fast, and the divorce is already registered.”
The lawyer nodded.
“Yesterday at three p.m.,” he said, pointing. “Here is the stamp in the database. So the condition of the will has been violated. The marriage was dissolved earlier than one year after the testator’s death. Consequently, according to the will, all property transfers to Kaziah Vance.”