The Wife They Learned To Regret Chapter 2

I ignored the flicker of something complicated—maybe guilt, maybe disbelief—in Richard's eyes. I simply pressed the folder into his chest.

Nicola gasped, her eyes lighting up. "Oh my god, Mom! You're finally being reasonable! You should have done this ages ago!"

Jason let out a bark of relieved laughter. "Seriously. If you had just been this chill from the start, Dad wouldn't have had to carry this around for so long."

Richard finally exhaled, a profound look of relief washing over his aging face.

"Dad, since Mom's on board," Nicola said, linking her arm through his, "why don't we just have Carol move in right away? I mean, she's practically family now."

"Yeah, absolutely," Jason chimed in eagerly. "It's a crime leaving her all alone in that hotel."

I stood there, listening to the children I had carried in my body, the children I had sacrificed my youth to raise.

They already knew.

They had known about their father's affair with Carol for a long time. They had actively helped him hide it from me.

"This house," I began, my voice slicing through their celebration like a cold blade, "was purchased using my money for the down payment. Until my name is off the deed and I have packed my bags, she does not step foot inside."

Nicola's face hardened. "Mom, what is your problem?"

I didn't even look at her. I turned directly to Richard. "Since we have a mandatory waiting period, we should get the lawyers to draft the asset division immediately."

The living room plunged into dead silence.

Nicola exploded first. "Mom! What are you talking about? You've been married your whole lives, and you're going to penny-pinch him now?"

Jason quickly backed her up. "Yeah, exactly! It's not like the money won't eventually come to me and Nico anyway. Why do you need to be so petty and calculate every cent?"

I looked right past them. "Richard, the seed money you used to start your firm came from my trust fund. From my family."

"I want my share back."

Richard's jaw tightened. His lips pressed into a thin, pale line.

"Mom, you're a senior citizen! What do you even need that much money for?" Nicola demanded, her voice rising in panic. "And you haven't spoken to your family in decades! Why are you bringing them up now?"

It was true. When my wealthy, old-money parents found out I was draining my accounts to fund Richard's startup, they drew a hard line. They warned me he was a leech. They told me to break it off, or they would cut me out.

Drunk on the illusion of true love, I chose Richard. I walked away from my family.

Looking at him now, I realized my parents had been entirely right.

Jason practically threw himself between me and his father, terrified I was about to drain his inheritance. He started begging Richard not to listen to me.

I looked at my son and let out a soft, dry laugh. "Jason. You bought an eighty-thousand-dollar SUV last month. Where did the cash come from?"

Jason choked on his words, his face flushing crimson.

I turned my gaze to Nicola. "And you. You spent a month touring the Amalfi Coast this summer. Racked up nearly twenty grand. Who paid the credit card bill?"

Nicola looked away, her mouth snapping shut.

"That money came from our joint accounts. Half of everything in those accounts belongs to me." I took a step closer to Richard, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Furthermore, if it weren't for my startup capital, your father wouldn't have a dime to his name today."

Richard stared at the floor for a long, agonizing minute. Finally, a muscle feathered in his jaw.

"Fine," he muttered. "Whatever you want. We'll do it your way."

"Dad!" Jason and Nicola screamed in unison.

Richard held up a hand, silencing them. "Stop. As long as I can be with Carol, the money doesn't matter."

Over the next few days, Richard was remarkably compliant. The transfers, the deed modifications, the legal paperwork—it was handled with brutal efficiency.

Jason and Nicola, on the other hand, spent the week sending passive-aggressive texts to the extended family group chat. The general consensus was that I had lost my mind with greed, violently skinning their poor father alive on my way out the door.

I didn't care.

For the first time in forty years, I started investing in myself.

I went online and bought things on impulse. A heavy, pure silk nightgown for three hundred dollars. A jar of La Mer face cream for four hundred. A pair of handmade Italian leather loafers I had wanted for a decade but never dared to buy, nearly a thousand dollars.

I had never spent money like this on myself.

When Richard was building his business, we lived on pennies. I clipped coupons. I mended clothes. Even when the money started rolling in, the scarcity mindset was permanently etched into my bones. I always saved the best cuts of meat, the nicest things, for him and the kids.

Now, I had absolutely no one to save for but myself.