At that moment, something inside me broke. I excused myself and went to the bathroom.
“Go cry, calm down, you idiot,” Mark added behind me.

Alone in the bathroom, I finally let the tears flow. But along with the tears came a decision—I would never again allow him to crush my dignity. It was time for revenge.

I returned to the living room, sat back down at the table, and calmly removed my wedding ring. I placed it in front of Mark.

“What’s this supposed to mean?” he frowned.

“I’m asking for a divorce.”

He sneered:

“Ha! Who would want you? No one will ever love you.”

“We’ll see,” I replied calmly. “Tomorrow, you’ll pack your things and move out. From my apartment. Since I’m so fat, I won’t miss you. Oh, and the car—registered in my name—stays in the garage. And don’t worry, my brother will hear all about this. You know how much he likes you.”

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Watch me.”

I stood up, grabbed my purse, and headed for the door. Behind me, I heard James’s voice—low but clear:
“Serves you right, jerk.”

I walked out of the house and, for the first time in a long time, I felt free.