Divorce? He’ll Be the One Crying!

"It's all written clearly in black and white here. You can't possibly be illiterate, can you? Or should I say, do you recognize the handwriting your mother wrote? If not, you can always give her a call now."

I said slowly, making sure each word landed.

"I honestly don't get it. Your family keeps saying that you went into debt to marry me, but the house is in your name, which has nothing to do with me. The car was part of my dowry, and all the assets are under your name. How could this be about borrowing money to marry a wife?"

This question had been troubling me for quite a while.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it, especially when I saw those online posts where people cried about having to drain their parents dry just to marry.

With 20 grand, you could buy a decent car, but it was also enough to marry a woman to spend the rest of your life with.

When was the last time a daughter got married without a dowry from her parents?

At least in my family, I’ve never heard of a wedding where the parents didn’t contribute. Sure, I received a dowry of 200,000, but my own contribution matched that amount—after all, the car Marcus drove was already worth 150,000.

Marcus interrupted me impatiently. "Enough with the nonsense. Just say it—are you giving me this money today or not? If not, we'll see each other in court."

He didn’t even mention the promissory note, only fixated on making me hand over the 500,000.

"I don’t want to be anyone’s doormat, so fine, let’s go to court."

With that, I carefully tucked the promissory note away—this would be my best evidence if it ever came to a lawsuit.

Thankfully, we had only been together for three months, and our feelings hadn’t run too deep. So, even though he had done so many disgusting things, I felt nothing but disgust and a desire to sever all ties with him as quickly as possible.

"By the way, give me the car keys, and also give me the savings card. I brought a dowry of 50,000 when I came here. Anything that belongs to me, not a single cent will stay with you."

Marcus spoke with complete confidence. "You’ve got it all wrong. Now that you’re married into our family, that money belongs to us. Why should I give it to you?"

I snorted. "When you asked for the dowry, did you ever think that money was your guarantee for marrying me? What nerve do you have to say something like that? You’re already this old, and you’re not worried about embarrassing yourself?"

"Since you’ve brought it up and want to split, let's part on good terms. We’ll settle the accounts, and if you want a lawsuit, we can go there too. What’s yours, you can take, but what’s mine, you’ll have to give back, every last penny. You want to play the victim, but I’m not the one."

Not only was I not the victim here, but I was also a tough nut to crack—anyone who tried to take me on would regret it.

The things he had done today truly disgusted me. Just looking at him made me feel nauseous, and I grabbed my bag, ready to leave.

The first thing I did after walking out of Marcus's house was find the best divorce lawyer, Jonathan Reed.

We met at a coffee shop, and I laid everything out, telling him all the details. Then, I pulled out the promissory note.

"My goal is to divorce as soon as possible and get back everything that belongs to me. His things? I don’t want them."