Chapter 3: Terms of Betrayal

Now he’s the boss of a company, and it’s about to get funding and go public. They saw dollar signs, not the man who’d broken my heart.

If I divorced him now, wouldn’t I just be handing everything to someone else? The thought was bitter, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

It’s so strange—everyone’s giving me advice. But it’s not even about whether I want a divorce—Jackson is the one insisting on it, just to give his mistress a proper place. No one seemed to care about what I wanted.

Then my dad said, "So, you should just give in a little. You’ve been together so many years, you went through hard times with him. If you yield, he’ll definitely soften. When a man reaches this position, he wants to be admired and to protect the weak." His words echoed in my head long after dinner was over.

I went home for dinner, and all I heard was this kind of talk. The meal tasted like ashes. Every bite, a reminder of what I’d lost.

If he wants to protect the weak, he should go do charity. There are plenty of people who need protecting. Ha. The thought made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.

I was about to leave. Then Jackson walked in.

"Dad, Mom!" His voice was too cheerful, like he was playing the good son-in-law for the last time. I felt a wave of irritation and disbelief.

When he saw me, Jackson was a little surprised. "Savannah, you’re here too." He hesitated at the doorway, unsure if he should come in or bolt. The awkwardness was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"What a coincidence! We didn’t know Savannah was coming for dinner today! You two should talk, have a good chat! Savannah has a lot to say to you!" My parents hustled out, practically shoving us together.

Jackson sat on the sofa, straightened his clothes, and said, "The court date is coming up. There’s nothing much to talk about. If you sign the divorce agreement now, we can get this over with sooner. It’s better for both of us." He spoke like a businessman closing a deal, not a husband ending a marriage.

"I know you don’t want to divorce me, but I’ve already fallen for someone else. There’s no going back, Savannah. After all these years, let’s part peacefully." His words were cold, final. The man I’d loved was gone, replaced by a stranger.

I said, "You’re overthinking it. I didn’t know Dad and Mom invited you today. Jackson, my dad gave you $400,000 from the house sale to start your business. Without that money, you wouldn’t have what you have today. You want me to divorce you just for paying back the $400,000? Dream on." I stared him down, refusing to back down.

Jackson almost lost it. "Savannah! When did you get so materialistic? Yes, the $400,000 came from my father-in-law, but I was the one who built the company! If you’d invested in someone else, you might not have gotten anything! Now I’m paying back principal and interest, and you’re still not satisfied?" He was practically shouting, his face red with anger.

"You want me to leave with nothing? You’ve read too many novels! That’s impossible! You’re just dragging this out by not divorcing, wasting both our time and youth! I don’t even love you anymore, so why are you still clinging to me? What’s the point!" His words stung, but I refused to let him see how much they hurt.

Watching Jackson yell at me, I remembered how happy he was when he got the $400,000, hugging me and promising:

"Savannah, believe me. When I make the company a success, I’ll pay you back a hundred, a thousand times over! I’ll never forget what you and Dad did for me, and I’ll love you forever! Honey, I love you, I love you!" His voice had been so earnest back then. So full of hope and gratitude.

Back then, when he got the money, he really did love me. Or at least, I believed he did. Maybe we both did.

Now, with his career made and another woman in his life, it’s true when he says he doesn’t love me anymore. People change. Promises fade. It hurt, but I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

When my parents saw that Jackson was set on divorcing me, they stopped trying to talk me out of it. They just told me to get it over with, start a new life, and not waste time on things that didn’t matter. Their support meant more than they knew, even if it came a little late.

I said, "I want him to leave with nothing." I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try.

My parents thought I was crazy, because it seemed impossible. But I saw something like pride flicker in my dad’s eyes, just for a second.

And now, with all his money and resources, Jackson could drag this out in court for as long as he wanted. I needed help—someone who knew him, someone who wouldn’t back down.

I found a lawyer—Jackson’s former friend, Nate. The same Nate who’d called him out at my birthday party. Since that night, those two had completely fallen out.

I repeated myself: "I want him to leave with nothing." My voice was steady, determined.

I thought Nate would laugh at me like everyone else. I braced myself for the disappointment.

But Nate said, "Alright! We’ll make him leave with nothing!" His grin was infectious, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of hope.

At that, I laughed. It started as a chuckle, then turned into real, honest-to-God laughter. For a second, I forgot how bad things were.

As I laughed, tears rolled down my cheeks. "They’re fixing the road outside your law office. Got sand in my eyes." I tried to brush them away, but they kept coming.

Nate handed me a tissue. "Why the hell is that sand pile in front of my place? I’ll get someone to move it!" He sounded so serious, it made me laugh even harder.

And then someone really did drive an excavator over and moved the sand away. I just stared. Was this real life?

I started crying even harder. The release was overwhelming, years of frustration and pain pouring out all at once.

The excavator driver, not knowing what he’d done to upset me, revved the machine and took off. He probably thought we were nuts.

Watching the excavator speed away, I started laughing again. Crying and laughing at the same time. But for once, I didn’t care who saw.

But Nate suddenly pulled me into a hug. His arms were warm and solid, grounding me in the middle of my chaos.

"Don’t be afraid. I’m here." His words were simple, but they meant everything in that moment.

Listening to his heartbeat pounding against my chest, I actually calmed down. It was steady, reassuring—a reminder that not everyone in my life would let me down.

Nate and I had been childhood friends, growing up on the same street. He was raised by his grandparents, with his parents living overseas. Later, in high school, he was sent abroad too. I remembered summer days spent riding bikes, sneaking ice cream from the corner store, dreaming about the future.

He only came back to the States in the past two years, because of work ties to Jackson’s company, and the two became close. It was strange how life had brought us full circle, back to each other when we needed it most.