I stayed at my parents' house until the afternoon light began fading.
Mom had prepared more food than we could finish.
She always did that.
Even when I told her I wasn't particularly hungry, she would put another serving on my plate.
Dad sat across from me, occasionally asking about the business.
He had always been interested in my work.
Not because he wanted anything from it.
He simply liked knowing what I was doing.
That afternoon, he asked whether Hawthorne Kitchens was recovering.
I told him about the two contracts and the professional managers.
He seemed relieved.
"That's good. Your investment deserved a chance to succeed."
I smiled.
He knew I had invested money years earlier, but I had never explained every detail of the ownership arrangement.
He didn't need to know everything.
Mom brought another cup of tea.
Then she sat beside me.
"Are things all right between you and Grant?"
I looked at the cup in my hands.
I could have given her the easy answer.
I could have said we were working through some difficulties.
But I was tired of pretending.
"We're getting divorced."
Mom didn't immediately respond.
She placed her hand over mine.
Dad lowered his newspaper.
Neither of them asked what Grant had done.
Neither asked whether I could save the marriage.
They simply sat with me.
That was when I understood something I should have understood years earlier.
My parents had never asked me to sacrifice my happiness to repay them.
They had only wanted me to be well.
I stayed a little longer.
Before leaving, Mom packed some food for me to take home.
I protested.
She ignored me.
Some things never changed.
On the drive back, I thought about the six hundred dollars.
It was such a small amount compared with everything else that had happened.
Yet that was the amount that started the argument.
Not the warehouse.
Not the property.
Not Vanessa's consulting operation.
Six hundred dollars.
My husband had been willing to turn our marriage into a financial contest because I wanted to help two retired teachers who had spent their lives taking care of me.
I wondered how many times I had accepted his behavior simply because arguing seemed more exhausting than giving in.
I didn't have an answer.
When I arrived home, Grant was in the living room.
He looked at the bag in my hand.
"Been visiting your parents?"
"Yes."
He glanced away.
"Of course."
I placed the food in the kitchen.
He followed me.
"Did you tell them about the divorce?"
"They know we're handling things through our lawyers."
He leaned against the counter.
"Your parents must be happy now."
I turned toward him.
"Why would you say that?"
"Because you finally got what you wanted."
I looked at him for several seconds.
"I never wanted a divorce."
He laughed without humor.
"That's hard to believe."
I didn't respond.
He had rewritten the beginning of our conflict so many times that perhaps he genuinely believed his version.
He remembered the argument.
He remembered my refusal to continue paying his family's expenses.
But he seemed to have forgotten the phone he threw.
The words he used.
The agreement he demanded.
I took the food containers out of the bag.
Then I placed them in the refrigerator.
Grant watched me.
"Are you going to keep acting like nothing happened?"
"No."
"Then what are you going to do?"
I closed the refrigerator door.
"Finish the decisions we've already made."
He shook his head.
I walked past him.
That night, I reviewed the latest correspondence from our lawyers.
The divorce process was continuing.
There were financial details to settle and documents to examine.
I wanted everything handled properly.
I wasn't interested in using the divorce to punish him.
I also wasn't going to give up rights simply to avoid another argument.
Those two things could exist together.
The following week, I received an update concerning Hawthorne Kitchens.
The professional managers had completed another review of operating expenses.
The two major contracts were progressing.
The company's financial controls were stronger.
I read the report carefully.
Then I signed the necessary ownership documentation.
For years, I had wanted the business to succeed because I believed its success would protect everyone.
Now I wanted it to succeed because it was an investment I had made and a company employing people who depended on it.
That was a different reason.
A healthier one.
Richard called later that week.
He asked how the business was doing.
I gave him the update.
He listened.
Then he said, "You know, Eleanor, I should have recognized your contribution a long time ago."
I didn't know what to say.
He continued.
"I let Grant take too much credit."
I looked at the financial report.
"What's important now is that the company is operating properly."
"Yes. You're right."
We ended the call politely.
It wasn't a dramatic reconciliation.
There were no promises.
But it was an honest conversation.
And that was enough.
Source: kaylestore.net
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: The Man Who Once Told Me I Would Never Manage Without Him Finally Had to Face the Life He Had Built Without My Support
He Thought Six Hundred Dollars Was Enough to End Our Marriage, But He Had No Idea What I Had Been Paying For All Along
Part 9 of 12
