Chapter 1 - The Sound of Breaking Glass
The fluorescent lights above me buzzed like angry wasps, casting a sickly yellow glow across the cramped attorney’s office. I could smell the stale coffee that had been sitting in the pot since morning, mixed with printer ink and Derek’s cologne. That same overpowering musk he had worn when we were together. The scent that used to make me feel safe now turned my stomach. “Sign the goddamn papers, Emma.” Derek’s fist came down on the cheap wooden table hard enough to make the pen jump. I flinched. I hated myself for it. After three years away from him, he could still make me feel small. The divorce papers sat between us like a battlefield, and with every passing second, I felt myself losing ground.
“Derek, I just need more time to read—” “Time?” He laughed. It was the cruel sound I remembered from our worst nights together. “You’ve had six months. What else do you need to understand? You get nothing. The house is mine. The car is mine. You walked out, remember?” He leaned closer. “You don’t get half of my hard work because you spread your legs for a few years.” Mr. Henderson shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His fingers tapped against his leather briefcase. He would not look at me. Derek had paid him. I was here alone. I could not afford my own representation. I could barely afford anything since leaving Derek with nothing but a backpack and whatever dignity I had managed to carry out with me. Even that felt threadbare now.
Rain streaked down the window in rivulets, distorting the city lights beyond the glass. It was almost 8:00 p.m. The building was mostly empty. Derek had insisted on meeting late because it was supposedly the only time that worked with his schedule. Now I understood why. No witnesses. No one nearby if I needed help. “I’m not signing away my rights to the apartment.” My voice barely rose above a whisper. “I helped pay the mortgage for two years.” “Before you decided to play victim and run to that women’s shelter.” Derek leaned forward. The vein in his temple pulsed. I knew that vein. It always appeared before things became worse. “You’re pathetic, Emma. Always playing the victim.” His voice dropped. “Sign the papers or I swear to God I’ll make your life even more miserable than it already is.”
My hand trembled when I picked up the pen. I hated how weak I felt. The walls seemed to be closing around me. The office was too small and too warm despite the November cold outside. Sweat gathered at the back of my neck and soaked into the collar of the only good blouse I owned. I had paid twelve dollars for it at a thrift store. There was a small stain on one sleeve that I always tried to hide. “There’s nothing else you can take from me.” I almost whispered it. “Oh, sweetheart.” Derek smiled. Poisonous. “I can always take more.” He leaned back. “I know where you work.” My stomach tightened. “I know you’re waiting tables at that dive bar on Fifth Street.” His smile widened. “It would be a shame if your boss found out about your problems.”
“Your instability.” “How you spent time in a shelter because you couldn’t handle real life.”
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The pen felt like lead. Through the rain-streaked window, I could see the mostly empty parking lot below. Only a handful of vehicles remained. One was a black SUV with deeply tinted windows that looked far too expensive for the neighborhood. Something about it made my skin prickle. I did not know why. “Sign the papers.” Derek’s voice had dropped into the dangerous whisper I remembered too well. Mr. Henderson finally spoke. “Ms. Chen, I really believe it would be in your best interest to settle this amicably tonight.” His voice was oily and practiced. “Mr. Morrison has been more than generous.” “Generous?” The word escaped before I could stop it. “He’s taking everything.” I looked at the papers. “The furniture I bought. The savings account I contributed to. Even the cat.”
“The cat I paid to feed.” Derek cut me off. “Everything in that apartment, I paid for.” His face hardened. “You were just a waitress then.” A pause. “And you’re just a waitress now.” His words landed like blows. I stared down at the lines where my signature would erase any claim to the life I had tried to build. A life I once believed belonged to both of us. My vision blurred. I refused to let the tears fall. Not here. Not in front of him. Rain hammered harder against the window. The fluorescent lights flickered once. Then again. In those brief moments of darkness, I felt completely alone.
