He Counted Every Cent, Except the Cost of Losing Me - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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That evening I was summoned by the police.
As Grayson's current wife, I went to the station to bail him out.
Seeing me, Grayson looked lost and finally hung his head in silence.
I spoke coldly:
"Don't forget, we’re going to the courthouse to file for divorce."
He grabbed my wrist, pleading:
"Can we please not get divorced? I really know I was wrong. Look, I've already changed. I got the money back from Raven, I even hit her for you..."
I impatiently pulled his hand off:
"First, we're definitely getting divorced. Second, you didn't hit her for me—you did it for yourself."
"Then what do you want me to do so you'll forgive me and not divorce me?"
I looked at him and asked back: "Why are you so determined not to get divorced? We've been together seven years, always splitting everything fifty-fifty. It's no different from living alone."
He was stumped and couldn't speak for a long time.
Seeing me about to leave, he grabbed my hand again like it was his last lifeline.
"Because I love you! Honey, I really know I was wrong now. We won't split things anymore. We'll build this home together, okay? Can you give me one more chance?"
My heart clenched.
Home, our home... The thing neither fish nor fowl for me.
But before I could respond, Raven—who had also been bailed out by her family—suddenly rushed over.
"Grayson! Do you have any dignity as a man? Groveling like this for a bitch!"
I saw a flash of murderous intent in Grayson's eyes.
"Can you just shut your fucking mouth?!"
He turned and shouted at the woman behind him.
Raven froze in place, unable to believe her ears.
"Grayson! You were the one who stuck to me like glue back then, and now you want to kick me aside?"
Her eyes burned with intense resentment.
I suddenly understood her.
It wasn't because of her that our marriage fell apart.
On the contrary, it was Grayson's repeated indulgence that encouraged her to keep crossing my boundaries.
But ultimately, it was still Grayson's problem.
While they were confronting each other, I silently left.
The next day, I waited at the courthouse for a long time. Grayson didn't show up.
After thinking it over, I decided to go home.
When I opened the door, the overwhelming smell of alcohol nearly knocked me out.
Beer bottles were scattered everywhere, making it impossible to walk.
Hearing the noise, Grayson slowly lifted his head.
Seeing it was me, his eyes lit up.
He tried to get up from the floor using the couch for support, but stumbled and fell back down.
"Honey, did you come to see me because you forgive me?"
I just asked coldly: "Why didn't you go to the courthouse today?"
"I...I didn't want to go. I don't want to get divorced."
"Grayson, do you think avoiding the problem will solve it?!"
He was silent for several seconds, growing more agitated.
He looked up, trying to drink more beer, but I snatched the bottle away.
"Enough! Is this really helping anything?"
But he suddenly smiled.
"You know what? This is the first time since you asked for a divorce that you've shown me any expression other than indifference. Even if you're angry, it's better than you ignoring me."
Hearing this, my heart felt like it was being stabbed, the pain intense.
Looking at this man I'd loved unconditionally for seven years, an indescribable sadness washed over me.
I sat down next to him. "Grayson, we can't go back."
Hearing this, the hope that had just sparked in his eyes was instantly extinguished.
"Yeah, I know."
He hung his head with a bitter smile.
"I know I'm just comforting myself, but I really don't want to divorce you. We don't have any major problems, do we? I never cheated, never hit you. Why can't I be forgiven?"
This was what he could never understand.
Sure.
I admitted.
Except for strictly enforcing the fifty-fifty split, Grayson was considered a good husband by conventional standards.
He was handsome, had a decent salary, no bad habits, never spent money carelessly.
But the problem was—he didn't love me as much as he thought he did.
"Grayson, do you remember the first time we met?"
As Grayson's current wife, I went to the station to bail him out.
Seeing me, Grayson looked lost and finally hung his head in silence.
I spoke coldly:
"Don't forget, we’re going to the courthouse to file for divorce."
He grabbed my wrist, pleading:
"Can we please not get divorced? I really know I was wrong. Look, I've already changed. I got the money back from Raven, I even hit her for you..."
I impatiently pulled his hand off:
"First, we're definitely getting divorced. Second, you didn't hit her for me—you did it for yourself."
"Then what do you want me to do so you'll forgive me and not divorce me?"
I looked at him and asked back: "Why are you so determined not to get divorced? We've been together seven years, always splitting everything fifty-fifty. It's no different from living alone."
He was stumped and couldn't speak for a long time.
Seeing me about to leave, he grabbed my hand again like it was his last lifeline.
"Because I love you! Honey, I really know I was wrong now. We won't split things anymore. We'll build this home together, okay? Can you give me one more chance?"
My heart clenched.
Home, our home... The thing neither fish nor fowl for me.
But before I could respond, Raven—who had also been bailed out by her family—suddenly rushed over.
"Grayson! Do you have any dignity as a man? Groveling like this for a bitch!"
I saw a flash of murderous intent in Grayson's eyes.
"Can you just shut your fucking mouth?!"
He turned and shouted at the woman behind him.
Raven froze in place, unable to believe her ears.
"Grayson! You were the one who stuck to me like glue back then, and now you want to kick me aside?"
Her eyes burned with intense resentment.
I suddenly understood her.
It wasn't because of her that our marriage fell apart.
On the contrary, it was Grayson's repeated indulgence that encouraged her to keep crossing my boundaries.
But ultimately, it was still Grayson's problem.
While they were confronting each other, I silently left.
The next day, I waited at the courthouse for a long time. Grayson didn't show up.
After thinking it over, I decided to go home.
When I opened the door, the overwhelming smell of alcohol nearly knocked me out.
Beer bottles were scattered everywhere, making it impossible to walk.
Hearing the noise, Grayson slowly lifted his head.
Seeing it was me, his eyes lit up.
He tried to get up from the floor using the couch for support, but stumbled and fell back down.
"Honey, did you come to see me because you forgive me?"
I just asked coldly: "Why didn't you go to the courthouse today?"
"I...I didn't want to go. I don't want to get divorced."
"Grayson, do you think avoiding the problem will solve it?!"
He was silent for several seconds, growing more agitated.
He looked up, trying to drink more beer, but I snatched the bottle away.
"Enough! Is this really helping anything?"
But he suddenly smiled.
"You know what? This is the first time since you asked for a divorce that you've shown me any expression other than indifference. Even if you're angry, it's better than you ignoring me."
Hearing this, my heart felt like it was being stabbed, the pain intense.
Looking at this man I'd loved unconditionally for seven years, an indescribable sadness washed over me.
I sat down next to him. "Grayson, we can't go back."
Hearing this, the hope that had just sparked in his eyes was instantly extinguished.
"Yeah, I know."
He hung his head with a bitter smile.
"I know I'm just comforting myself, but I really don't want to divorce you. We don't have any major problems, do we? I never cheated, never hit you. Why can't I be forgiven?"
This was what he could never understand.
Sure.
I admitted.
Except for strictly enforcing the fifty-fifty split, Grayson was considered a good husband by conventional standards.
He was handsome, had a decent salary, no bad habits, never spent money carelessly.
But the problem was—he didn't love me as much as he thought he did.
"Grayson, do you remember the first time we met?"
End of He Counted Every Cent, Except the Cost of Losing Me Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to He Counted Every Cent, Except the Cost of Losing Me book page.