Chapter 7 - THE DIVORCE TABLE
The divorce mediation took place six months after Aurelia House.
One table.
Two attorneys.
Coffee nobody drank.
No dramatic courtroom.
Rachel Kim sat beside Elena.
Dominic sat across with his attorney.
They had a prenup.
Good one.
Harold insisted.
At the time Dominic complained it made him feel distrusted.
Now it made everything simple.
Bennett shares:
Elena’s separate property.
Dominic’s pre-marital company:
His.
Penthouse:
Purchased during marriage, but mostly funded through Elena’s premarital trust.
Subject to equitable accounting.
Cash.
Investments.
Art.
Cars.
Manageable.
The hardest asset was not money.
It was narrative.
Dominic wanted confidentiality.
Elena wanted mutual non-disparagement.
He wanted language saying business disputes were separate from marital issues.
She agreed.
He looked surprised.
“You're not going to say I married you for the company?”
Rachel looked toward Elena.
Her choice.
Elena answered:
“I don't know why you married me.”
Dominic flinched.
“I did love you.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because I don't need a court document explaining your heart.”
Silence.
She continued.
“I need a divorce decree explaining our property.”
That ended the argument.
They divided belongings.
Dominic wanted the dining table.
Elena did not.
She wanted her mother’s china.
He had never liked it.
The penthouse caused more emotion.
“I can buy your share,” he said.
Elena looked toward Rachel.
Then back.
“No.”
Dominic frowned.
“You want it?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“Sell it.”
His face changed.
“Elena.”
“What?”
“We built that place.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“We decorated it.”
Different.
“It was never home.”
He looked down.
They agreed to sell.
The proceeds were divided according to the prenup and contribution records.
Two weeks before closing, Elena visited once.
Empty rooms.
No gray furniture.
No chrome.
No wedding photographs.
She stood where their bed had been.
Remembered the night Dominic returned smelling of Vanessa’s perfume.
Then remembered blueberry pancakes.
Seven years could not be reduced to one betrayal.
There had been vacations.
Inside jokes.
Flu nights.
Her mother’s funeral.
Dominic holding Elena in a hospital hallway.
Christmas mornings.
Real things.
That was the cruelty.
Bad marriages are not always seven years of badness.
Sometimes there is enough good to keep explaining away the rest.
Elena walked to the kitchen.
On the counter lay an envelope.
Dominic’s handwriting.
She almost did not open it.
Inside:
One page.
Ellie,
I used to think saying I loved you should matter more than how I treated you.
It doesn’t.
I keep wanting to write an explanation that makes me easier to forgive. Every version turns into another way of asking you to take care of my feelings.
So this is not that.
I was cruel to you.
I used your insecurity because it made me feel secure.
I enjoyed being underestimated until I realized I had been underestimating you too.
I used your father’s company to build mine and told myself access was evidence I had earned everything alone.
I cheated.
I lied.
I mocked your body while depending on your loyalty.
You did not destroy my business.
I did.
I am sorry.
Dominic.
Elena sat on the floor and cried.
Then folded the letter.
She did not call him.
Apologies do not always require replies.
At mediation’s final session, Dominic signed first.
Elena signed second.
Seven years ended in black ink.
When they stood, Dominic said:
“I hope you're happy.”
Elena looked at him.
Not malicious.
Not pleading.
Just tired.
“I hope you become someone who doesn't need another person smaller to feel large.”
He closed his eyes.
“So do I.”
They left through different doors.
Outside, Priya waited.
“Divorced?”
“Yes.”
“Feel different?”
“No.”
“Want champagne?”
“It’s eleven in the morning.”
“So?”
Elena laughed.
“No.”
“Cake?”
She thought.
“Yes.”
They went to a bakery.
Elena ordered exactly what she wanted.
No calculating whether Dominic would comment.
No choosing the smaller portion to prove discipline.
Strawberry shortcake.
Priya raised her fork.
“To spreadsheets.”
Elena touched hers against it.
“To boring women.”
They laughed.
May you like
For the first time, the joke belonged to her.
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