Chapter 9
Leaving the place where I had lived for so many years, I suddenly realized I had nowhere to go.
The savings I had in my hand were all from my husband’s salary. Since I had told him I wanted a divorce, and the assets hadn’t been divided yet, I felt awkward spending his money directly.
Just as I was wondering what to do, Floyd Wade messaged me, asking how I was doing. I told him my situation, and before. long, he drove over to pick me up.
Floyd Wade is an upright person. Instead of taking me to his home, he booked a hotel room for me and arranged everything so I could stay there temporarily.
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“Sis, don’t be too sad. I’ll talk to Jed about all this later,” he said.
“There’s no point in talking. I’m not getting back with him,” I replied, clutching Floyd’s hand, tears welling up in my eyes. “Floyd, keep an eye on him for me. I’m worried he won’t let me get a divorce easily.”
Floyd agreed without hesitation and then gave me a restrained hug.
“Don’t worry, sis. There’s nothing wrong with getting a divorce. I’ll take care of everything for you from now on.”
Leaning gently against his solid chest, I felt an immense sense of comfort and relief. I softly murmured an agreement.
To avoid encountering my husband, I stayed
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cooped up in the hotel suite for several days, crying my eyes out. Then, I received news that shattered me even more.
Floyd informed me that he had discovered my husband meeting up with another couple. After they checked into the room, my husband just sat by the bed watching them doing that thing.
The world seemed to fade to black around me, and I nearly fainted. My throat itched, and I ended up vomiting everything I’d eaten in the past few days.
“Sis, are you okay?” Floyd’s voice was filled with urgent concern over the phone.
I took a long time to recover and weakly said, “Stop calling me ‘sis‘. Floyd, do you have evidence of them checking into the room? Can I use it to speed up the divorce
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process?”
After receiving an affirmative response, I urged Floyd to help me with the divorce, making it clear that I didn’t want to see my husband at all during the process.
Things started to go smoothly from that point. I blocked all contact with my husband and ruthlessly deleted every trace of our past together.
I couldn’t understand how he had become
like this. I even searched online to understand the psychology of people with his voyeuristic tendencies, but despite reading a lot of theories, I couldn’t accept or comprehend it.
I thought the last time I would see him would be on our divorce day, but it turned out our meeting place wasn’t the registry office–it
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was a hospital.
Two days before we were supposed to finalize the divorce, he couldn’t resist and
got caught spying on others again, ending up beaten and hospitalized.
Seeing him looking so down and out on the hospital bed, I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel pity.
“Can you get up?” I asked him.
He shook his head, his eyes filled with despair and longing as he looked at me. I looked away, leaving him with a single
sentence.
“Then we’ll go through with the lawsuit. I can’t wait for you to get out of the hospital. The sooner we can finalize this, the better.”
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As I turned to leave, he asked, “Are you… going to be with Floyd?”
I replied, “This has nothing to do with him. The divorce is because of you.”
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