Chapter 13
According to the agreement, since I bought this apartment before we got married and it hasn’t really gone up in value, even though I’ve paid off part of the mortgage, Alan’s not getting much from it. So, no, he’s not getting a share.
As for Alan‘ s paycheck, I‘ m taking half
of it.
I’m being generous with the money Iris spent–I’m only taking half of what’s left in her account. I’ve got an expensive lawsuit coming up.
And my salary? That’s mine to keep.
I put my phone away and said, “No divorce? Fine with me. We’ll just drag this out. I’ll blow all the money on diamonds, designer bags, and vacations. Nobody‘ s getting a cent!”
Alan, barely holding back his rage, finally gave in.
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Chapter 13
We went the contested divorce route to avoid the one–month waiting period. A few days later, I got the court’s decision.
With the judgment in hand, I wasn’t worried about Alan getting my money. I
packed up all our stuff and kicked them out of my house.
Iris started hurling insults, using every dirty word she knew.
I slapped her a few times and taped her mouth shut with clear tape.
True to my word, I didn’t touch the remaining money; I handed it all back to
Alan.
When they moved out, Alan, sitting in his wheelchair, glared at me like he was saying, “Just wait until I’m back on my feet–I’ll make you pay.”
Even though I’d handled them, Alan still had hundreds of thousands of pounds.
He rented a place, hired a caregiver, and
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Chapter 13
planned to recover. Once he got his prosthetics, he’d be able to stand up and live a decent life.
I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I immediately got in touch with the truck driver and gave him Alan’s new address.
The insurance had covered most of the
costs, but Alan still owed the driver
£30,000. The driver and his crew headed straight to Alan’s new place to collect.
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