Rusty Love, Rainy Day

After I rejected Milos divorce proposal for the third time, I did something stupid.
I compiled everythingthe chat logs with his assistant, the hotel receiptsinto a damning slideshow and blasted it all over the internet. I poured out five years of marital grievances, a testament of my pain written in blood and tears.
Just when I thought Id finally feel the sweet satisfaction of revenge, the police showed up at my door.
Thats when I learned Milo had reported me for invasion of privacy.
For that, I was about to face the five darkest days of my life in a holding cell.
But on the third day, he came to see me.
He brought our sons latest award-winning essay for me to read.
The title was: My Mom is a Psycho.
In that instant, the bedrock of my convictions crumbled into dust.
Seeing the contempt in his eyes, I finally broke. The fight went out of me.
Milo, I said, my voice a raw whisper, Ill sign the papers.

1
Kelly, you can ask for anything you want, except custody of our son.
Now that he had what he wanted, Milos aggressive posture softened. For the first time in months, he looked at me with something other than hostility.
All the fight had drained out of me, too. There were no more hysterical arguments left in my soul.
I stated my terms calmly.
I want one million dollars.
His face flickered with surprise. He had clearly expected another war, another dragged-out battle for our son. He had probably come prepared, armed with a strategy to dismantle my every claim to motherhood.
But my request threw him completely off balance.
Just a million? he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. You take this money, and Leo will have nothing to do with you from this day forward. You understand that?
I met his probing gaze and gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Milo opened his mouth as if to say more, then thought better of it.
Fine, he clipped out. The moment youre released, well file the papers. Dont you dare play games with me, Kelly.
He left me with that final warning, turning his back and walking away.
But just after he was gone, another visitor arrived.
It was my mother, who I hadn't seen in the five years since she moved to Paris. She had a lawyer with her. Before I knew it, she had posted my bail with an air of casual efficiency.
Walking out of the police station, she fished a slim cigarette from her purse and flicked a lighter open with practiced ease. She exhaled a slow, thoughtful plume of smoke before turning her gaze on me, taking in my exhausted, disheveled state.
Ready to come with me now?
Im twenty-seven years old. That was the second time shed asked me that question.
The first was when she divorced my cheating father. She walked away with nothing, wanting only to take me with her. But everyone around me, all the well-meaning relatives, whispered in my ear. A six-year-old would be a burden. A penniless woman couldn't raise a child.
So I ignored the cry of my own heart and chose to stay with my father.
She accepted my decision without a fight and left without a backward glance.
For years, a small, bitter part of me resented her for it. Resented her for abandoning me, for shattering our family. So when she flew in for my wedding to Milo, and she told me, Kelly, learn to love yourself before you love anyone else. Don't pour your entire being into another person. Be good to yourself, I bristled.
Back then, I was so naive. Ten years of history with Milo felt like an unbreakable bond. I believed he would love me as he loved himself, forever and always.
Id shot back at her with all the arrogance of a girl in love. Do you think everyone is as selfish as you are? Always demanding love but never trying to be worthy of it.
She didnt get angry. She just looked at me with a sad, knowing smile.
Only now, sitting here, did I finally understand.
I truly was a naive little fool.
My throat felt like it was lined with shattered glass. Each word was a fresh cut.
As soon as the divorce is final, I rasped, Ill go with you.

2
I spent the night at my mothers hotel. The next morning, dressed in the new clothes shed bought for me, I went back to the house I had called home for six years.
Our son, Leo, was in the living room playing with his toys. When he saw me, his eyes flashed with surprise, quickly followed by a wave of annoyance.
He muttered under his breath, Werent you supposed to be in there for five days? Why are you back in three?
Just then, Milo came down the stairs. He, too, looked startled to see me, as if he hadn't expected me to be out so soon. He quickly schooled his features into a neutral mask.
Youre back, he stated calmly. Go wash up and get some rest. Dont cause any more trouble.
I shook my head. No need. Lets go to the courthouse now and file for divorce.
At the word divorce, Leos face contorted. He scrambled behind Milos legs, shouting at me, If youre leaving, youre not taking me with you! Im not going anywhere with you!
The raw rejection on his furious little face was a familiar sting. I could only manage a hollow twitch of my lips.
Milo had left Leos essay with me yesterday. Id read it over and over, the words burned into my memory.
My mom is like a psycho, he had written. My dad works so hard, but shes always fighting with him. She smashes things around the house like a crazy person and hits my dad. If I could, I wish this psycho woman wasnt my mom.
The first time Milo asked for a divorce was right after I found out he was cheating.
I had calmly taken pictures of the chat logs and hotel receipts on his phone. When he got home, I laid the evidence out before him, one photo at a time. My fists were clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms, but I held my rage in check. I was waiting for his confession, for him to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
Id imagined a hundred different ways he would break down and apologize.
But he didnt. He just looked at me, his eyes devoid of guilt. Instead, there was a chilling arrogance, the brazen confidence of a man whod been caught and simply didnt care.
Kelly, he said, either you delete those photos and continue playing the quiet Mrs. Shen, or we get a divorce.
Until that moment, Id foolishly thought that if he just said he was sorry, I could try to forgive him. For Leo. I didnt want our family to break apart, didnt want my son to relive my own childhood trauma of being forced to choose between his parents.
But there was no apology.
His shameless audacity ignited the fury Id been suppressing. I grabbed the nearest object and hurled it at him, then another, and another. A storm of grief and betrayal broke loose. But then I heard the nannys voice from the hallway, talking to Leo.
I froze, desperately trying to rein in my breakdown. I didnt want my son to see this ugly, broken side of us.
But it was too late.
Leo saw me, a wild woman hurling things at his father. What he didn't hear were the words Milo had said just moments before.
Now, looking at this child who regarded me as if I were poison, I accepted the piercing pain of this wound, inflicted by the one person I brought into this world.
Dont worry, I said, my voice flat. I dont want you. Ill be gone after the divorce.
Leos expression was a mixture of suspicion and hope. He looked up at Milo for confirmation.
Milo met his gaze. In that case, he said coolly, well file the papers tomorrow. Ill have my lawyer draft a parental rights termination agreement. Once you sign it, Leo will be able to relax.
At his fathers words, Leos eyes lit up, shining with pure, unadulterated anticipation.
I swallowed hard.
Fine, I agreed.

3
Milos lawyer was efficient. Within two hours, the agreement was in my hands. A document relinquishing all my parental rights.
I signed my name without a moment's hesitation.
The second the pen left the paper, I heard a small, happy sigh from beside me.
Leo snatched the document from the table. I finally dont have a psycho mom anymore! he cheered. No one at school can make fun of me now.
He caught me staring, and Milos gaze met mine, his eyes glinting with a faint mockery.
Someone took a picture when the police escorted you out of the house. It went viral online, he explained, his tone thick with blame. Because of you, Leos been getting a hard time at school.
He forgot, of course, that he was the one who started it all.
I didnt bother to argue. I let him heap all the blame onto my shoulders, just as he wanted.
But the disdain in his eyes reminded me of the second time hed asked for a divorce.
That time, I had refused to accept it. Consumed by a desperate, maddening grief, I stormed into his office. In front of all his employees, I screamed my accusations, laying bare the affair between him and his assistant, Lana.
He stood in the middle of the crowd, completely unmoved, watching my public breakdown as if I were a clown in a circus.
I had forgotten. He signed their paychecks. They werent about to judge their bosss private life or risk their jobs for a stranger.
They all just stared, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and amusement. Their gazes were like spotlights, leaving me nowhere to hide. I wanted to run, to disappear.
Then I heard the whispers from the crowd. Shes pretty, I guess, but shes got nothing on Lana. If I were the boss, Id make the same choice.
Right? So many guys cheat, especially the rich ones. Why is she being so dramatic? Cant she just learn to turn a blind eye?
If I were her, I wouldnt make a scene. Just take the money and live the good life. Making a fool of herself like this is just pathetic.
I stood there, paralyzed, as their words washed over me.
A memory surfaced. The year Milo started his business. Id helped him land a crucial contract by drinking round after round with a client, a night that ended with me in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer.
Milo sat by my bedside, clutching my hand, his voice thick with tears. Kelly, hed choked out, I swear, I will never let you down. Ill give you a home, Ill make you the most envied wife in the world.
I opened my mouth to shout back at them, to tell them that he was the one who made those promises, that he was the one who swore wed grow old together.
But before I could speak, Lana came running over, her face streaked with tears. She dropped to her knees in front of me with a dramatic thud.
Mrs. Shen, please! she sobbed, bowing her head. I never meant to come between you and Mr. Shen. If you dont want me here, Ill resign immediately. Ill never see him again. But Im begging you, please dont do this here! How can he face his employees after a scene like this?
She cast herself as the noble woman protecting her boss, and me as the unhinged wife.
Milo looked at her, crumpled on the floor in a puddle of tears, and his heart clearly went out to her. He rushed over and helped her to her feet.
Then he turned on me, his voice booming with fury. Thats enough! Kelly, were getting a divorce! I cant live like this for another day! I am sick of this suffocating life!
That day was also documented in Leos essay.
I only learned then that he had skipped his after-school class that day to go to the office and play with Lana.
And in his essay, he wrote: My mom isnt just a psycho, shes so embarrassing. I dont understand why I have a mom like her. I wish Lana was my mom instead.

4
I agreed to the divorce. I signed away my rights as a mother. For Milo and Leo, it was a day of celebration. They took the agreement and went out, eager to commemorate their victory.
As I started packing my bags, a new post popped up on Milos social media feed.
It was a photo of him, Leo, and Lana, all wearing matching family outfits. Milo, who rarely ever smiled, was beaming. The brilliant, joyful smile on Leos face was just as piercing. Lana stood between them, the very picture of a gentle, loving mother.
I glanced at it for only a second before a message from my mom lit up my screen.
I have your new passport ready. As soon as you file the papers tomorrow, come with me. We can come back just to pick up the final decree when it's time.
Okay, I typed back, without hesitation.
I used to tell myself I had to be a good mother, a mother who always put her child first. I wanted him to grow up happy, to know he was loved.
So I never told him about the C-section. How the pain was so blinding I almost passed out several times. Milo wasnt there. I had to stay conscious. Id heard horror stories about babies being switched or stolen when no one was watching. So I bit down hard, enduring wave after wave of agony. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and called Milo, sobbing.
He didn't answer.
I assumed he was busy with work and forced myself to swallow my pain.
It was only after his affair came to light, after all the ugly truths were spilled, that I found out where he was. While I was in a hospital bed, crying in agony after being cut open for our child, he was in someone elses bed, enjoying a much softer embrace.
The night Leo had a raging fever and I was simultaneously struck down with appendicitis, frantic and in excruciating pain, Milo was on another one of his business tripsin that same womans bed.
He was blind to my suffering.
On the rare occasions he felt a pang of guilt, he would shower me with expensive gifts. And when he saw the genuine joy on my face, a dark, ugly thought would cross his mind: Kelly is so easy to please.
He told me this himself. He recounted my moments of gratitude as if they were a joke, completely forgetting the years when we had nothing.
Back when we lived in a cramped, dark basement apartment, he would see other mens girlfriends, so polished and beautiful, and then look at me, worn down by work and worry, and his eyes would fill with tears.
Kelly, he would whisper, his voice thick with emotion, Im the luckiest man in the world to have met you. How could I ever live without you?
He swore he would give me the best of everything. Whenever he got paid, hed spend half his meager salary on a pretty dress or a piece of jewelry for me. You deserve so much better, Kelly, hed say. Just wait a little longer. Everything they have, Ill give it all to you, and more.
I waited. And I hoped. Day after day, I dreamed of the beautiful future we would build for our little family.
But reality was a relentless blade, stabbing at a heart already riddled with scars.
I finished packing. I went through the house and tore up every photograph of myself, then hired a cleaning service to scrub away every last trace of my existence.
Tomorrow, after filing the papers, I would leave.
Milo and Leo didnt come home that night. I didnt call to check on them.
The next morning, I was at the courthouse as wed agreed. Milo arrived half an hour late.
As he got out of his car, he saw me. I was wearing a vibrant red dress. A flicker of somethingsurprise, admirationcrossed his face before he quickly masked it with a smirk.
Why are you wearing the dress from our wedding day? he drawled. Having second thoughts?
I looked at him and shook my head.
Red is for celebration, I said. And today is a day worth celebrating.
The smirk vanished from his face. He looked into my eyes, as calm and still as a deep lake, and a flicker of unease crossed his features.
Are you sure about this? No regrets? he pressed. You know me, Kelly. I dont look back. Once we sign these papers, were strangers.
I pulled out my phone. Right there, in front of him, I deleted his number, his messages, every digital trace of him from my life.
Then I turned and walked toward the courthouse entrance.
Lets go, I said. Its our turn.
After it was done, we walked out into the sunlight. Without a single backward glance, I walked toward my mothers car parked by the curb.
Milo watched my resolute figure walk away, and an inexplicable hollowness bloomed in his chest.
He reached out, his hand grasping for something to hold on to.
But all he caught was empty air.

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