After ten years of marriage, I want everything to be split fairly… even now, it still matters. Ten years is not a small thing.

“That’s not what I was told.”

“You didn’t read it. You said you trusted me.”

Silence.

“That doesn’t apply,” he argued weakly. “You didn’t work there.”

“I secured the loan. I signed as guarantor. I funded the first tax payments.”

I showed him the transfer records.

His confidence faltered.

“You’re overreacting.”

“No,” I said calmly. “We’re dividing.”

I placed a printed copy of his spreadsheet on the table.

The other woman’s name stood out clearly.

“You were planning my exit.”

He didn’t deny it.

Because he couldn’t.

“You miscalculated,” I said.

“How?”