I reached into my bag and pulled out a thick white envelope that I had prepared weeks ago.
“What is this?” Julian asked while his hands shook.
“Open it when you get to the house, assuming you can still call it that,” I said before tossing it at his feet.
“Sarah, wait!” he screamed, but I was already rolling up the window of my SUV.
“I heard the city bus runs late tonight, so maybe the walk home will give you both some time to think,” I said as we pulled away.
Julian opened the envelope that night to find divorce papers, a restraining order, and an eviction notice for the house that had always been in my name. The next day, he tried to sneak into his old office, but his badge was deactivated and his accounts were completely frozen.
Three months later, I was sitting in my new office as the official CEO of Zenith Group when my assistant told me Julian was at the front desk.
“He’s here to drop off a resume, claiming he has years of internal experience,” she said with a smirk.
“Tell him the night cleaning crew has an opening for a floor mopper, but otherwise, we aren’t hiring,” I replied before returning to my work.
I heard later that he threw a tantrum when he saw the minimum wage salary, shouting about his dignity even though he had none left. My lawyer called shortly after to tell me that Julian had signed the divorce papers without a fight because we had proof of his affair with an assistant.
One afternoon, Cynthia showed up at my office looking tired and worn down, far removed from the designer-clad woman she used to be.
“I’m not here for money, Sarah. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for how I treated you,” she said while looking at the floor.
“Why are you here now, Cynthia?” I asked.
“Because I finally realized that you weren’t the insignificant one; we were just too small to understand your value,” she admitted before leaving in silence.
