So, I’d received 60%.
Bank accounts were divided based on deposits.
Retirement accounts were handled according to state law.
“What about the emotional distress she caused by abandoning me on Thanksgiving?” Garrett asked at one point.
The mediator looked at him over her glasses.
“Oregon is a no fault state, Mr. Morrison. Emotional distress isn’t grounds for additional compensation.”
The whole process took 3 months from filing to final decree.
In that time, I moved into my own apartment, a bright two-bedroom place with hardwood floors and large windows that overlooked a small park.
I decorated it entirely to my own taste, with none of the compromises I’d made in the house I’d shared with Garrett.
Miranda helped me paint the living room a soft sage green that Garrett would have hated.
“This color is perfect,” she said, stepping back to admire our work.
“It’s peaceful,” I replied, a soft smile on my face. “It’s mine.”
And the word felt powerful.
The divorce was finalized on a Tuesday in early March.
I took the afternoon off work and met Miranda for lunch at an Italian restaurant we’d loved since college.
“How do you feel?” she asked, raising her glass of wine in a toast.
I consider the question seriously.
“Free. Lighter, like I’ve been carrying something heavy and finally set it down.”
“To freedom,” Miranda said, and we clinkedked glasses.
I heard through mutual friends that Garrett and Ashley had started dating officially about a month after our divorce was finalized.
The news should have hurt, but instead it felt validating.
I hadn’t been paranoid or insecure.
My instincts had been correct all along.
Sylvia apparently told everyone who had listened that I destroy her son’s life over a minor misunderstanding.
I didn’t bother correcting the narrative.
People—
Phân cảnh 11: A new beginning
—who knew me understood the truth, and people who didn’t weren’t worth my energy.
6 months after the divorce, I ran into Raymond, Garrett’s father, at a coffee shop downtown.
He looked uncomfortable, but approached my table anyway.
“Vivien, how are you?”
“I’m well, thank you.”
He shifted his weight, glancing around as if checking whether anyone was watching.
“I wanted to apologize for that Thanksgiving. I should have said something.”
“Yes, you should have.”
He nodded, accepting the judgment.
“Garrett’s relationship with Ashley isn’t going well, from what I understand. Sylvia is already planning their wedding, but they fight constantly.”
I felt nothing hearing this news.
No satisfaction, no regret, just a mild curiosity about people who no longer affected my daily life.
“I hope he’s happier than he was with me.”
“I don’t think he is. I think he finally realized what he lost.”
“That’s his problem to solve, not mine.”
Raymond smiled sadly.
“You always were stronger than he deserved. Take care of yourself, Vivian.”
“I intend to.”
Ending.
A year after leaving that Thanksgiving dinner, I received a promotion at work.