She shrieked, waving the papers like they were on fire. I calmly sipped my coffee. Divorce papers. You can't be serious. We just talked about working on things.
No, you talked about working on things. I listened. There's a difference. She started crying, then got angry, then cycled back to crying. This isn't fair.
You didn't even give me a chance to fix this. I said I was willing to compromise. You had 6 years to not manipulate me and lie about emotional affairs. That was your chance. But we agreed to try the open marriage.
You said you were okay with it. You can't just change your mind and punish me for following the rules we both agreed to. Even now, she was acting like she was the victim. I was okay with honesty and mutual respect. You gave me neither.
I can't believe you've been planning this behind my back. How long have you been scheming like some kind of psychopath? This is so manipulative. About as long as you've been seeing Rick, I said. That shut her up for exactly 5 seconds before she started screaming about how unfair it was that I didn't warn her.
How I should have given her a chance to fight for us, how this wasn't what she wanted. Real men don't just give up on their marriages. They fight for what they love. But I guess you never really loved me if you can just throw it all away like this. You wanted an open marriage, I reminded her.
Now you're getting the ultimate open marriage. We'll both be free to see whoever we want. Then came the part that really set her off. According to the other papers, she had 30 days to find alternative housing since the house was mine. Bought and paid for before we got married.
Her name wasn't on the deed, the mortgage, or any of the utilities. You can't kick me out, she screamed. This is my home, too. I've been living here for 3 years. I have rights.
Actually, it's not. You've got 30 days. Where am I supposed to go? I can't afford my own place on my salary. You know that.
This is financial abuse. I hear Rick has a place, I said, which made her face turn an interesting shade of purple. Rick and I aren't. That's not... We're not ready for that kind of step yet.
You can't just force me to move in with someone because it's convenient for you. She threw the papers at me and stormed upstairs. I could hear her on the phone, probably calling Britney or her mom, sobbing about how cruel and calculating I was being. About 2 hours later, my phone rang. Amanda's mom.
I should have let it go to voicemail, but I answered. Bad move. How dare you do this to my daughter. She started screaming before I could even say hello. Hello to you, too, Elizabeth, I said.
"Don't you hello me. Amanda is upstairs crying her eyes out because of what you've done. How could you be so cruel? She made one little mistake and you're destroying her life over it." One little mistake, right, Elizabeth?