My Husband Read Bedtime Stories to Our Neighbor, I Divorced Him That Night

I'm a family law attorney. My specialty is winning divorce cases for other people. I never imagined that one day, I'd be drafting my own divorce papers. For six years of marriage, Adrian read to me for ten minutes every night. He said it was our little marriage ritual. That was until I came home early from a business trip and heard his voice coming from my female neighbor’s apartment next door. "Vivi, which chapter do you want to hear tonight?" I stood outside her door, still holding the birthday cake I'd bought for him. I turned around, went home, opened my laptop, and went through our marital asset inventory from top to bottom. Later, Adrian knelt outside my law firm, his voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable. He said, "Serena, I was just helping her fall asleep. I never touched her." I set the voice recorder in front of him, and out came words he'd said himself. "She'll never leave me. She's too rational, which actually makes her the easiest to manipulate." I smiled. "Adrian, do you think the judge will find me easy to manipulate too?" Chapter 1 "Serena, is Mr. Prescott coming to read to me tonight?" The woman's voice on speakerphone was soft and airy. The cake box in my hand tilted, and a smear of frosting pressed against the clear lid. Adrian stood in the entryway, his tie half-loosened, his expression shifting instantly. His first instinct wasn't to hang up. It was to look at me. I set the cake on the dining table. "Sure, come on over." Two seconds of silence on the other end. I continued, "He's standing right in front of me. Want to ask him yourself?" Adrian finally reached over and grabbed the phone. I didn't flinch. He killed the call, and the only sound left in the living room was the hum of the refrigerator. I looked at him. "Who's Vivi?" Adrian's Adam's apple bobbed. "A neighbor." "Which neighbor?" "The one who just moved in downstairs." "A new neighbor. Why did she ask if you’d go read to her tonight?" Adrian frowned. "Serena, can you not talk to me like you're interrogating a suspect?" I laughed. "Occupational hazard. Can't help it." He set the phone aside and walked over to hug me. I stepped back half a pace, and his hand froze in midair. "Her name is Vivian Hayes. She was in a car accident a while back. She has nightmares every night." "So?" "So I've just been helping out." "Helping out by reading to her every night?" Adrian's expression darkened. "It's not every night." I said nothing. He looked away. That was my answer. I picked up the cake knife from the table. Adrian immediately grabbed my hand. "Serena, don't do anything rash." I looked down at his taut knuckles. "You think I'm going to stab you?" He froze. I pulled my hand free and cut the cake. The first slice went in, and a section of frosting collapsed. The "Happy Birthday" on top split in two. I pushed a piece toward him. "Adrian, happy thirty-sixth birthday." His face went white. "You came home early to celebrate my birthday?" I didn't answer. Adrian lowered his voice. "I'm sorry. I forgot." "You didn't forget." I looked up at him. "You remembered someone else's nightmares and forgot when my flight was landing." He opened his mouth, and a long moment passed before he managed, "Serena, I can explain." I nodded. "Go ahead." Adrian sat down across from me. "Vivian's parents are both overseas. She lives alone, and her leg is injured. The elevator broke down one day, so I helped her upstairs. She said she was scared and couldn't sleep." "So you volunteered?" "She said my voice reminded her of her brother." I couldn't help laughing out loud. Adrian's frown deepened. "What's funny?" "Funny how good she is at finding herself a brother." His tone turned heavy. "Serena, I know you're upset, but don't be cruel." The fork in my hand stopped. In six years of marriage, Adrian had rarely used that tone with me. He had always been gentle, polished. Like a glass of warm water. I once thought warm water was the best thing for daily life. It took today to learn that even warm water can scald. His phone buzzed again. Adrian instinctively glanced at it. I was faster. A text popped up on the screen. Vivian: [Mr. Prescott, my leg hurts. Can you come over?] I turned the phone toward him. "Should I go?" A flicker of conflict crossed Adrian's face. I stood and put the lid back on the cake box. "Go ahead." He jerked his head up. "Serena, don't be like this." "Like what?" "You're obviously angry, but you're pretending you don't care." I looked at him. "Adrian, I'm giving you a choice right now." His breath caught. "Stay. Delete her. Never see her again." He was silent for a few seconds, and his silence spoke volumes. I nodded. "Looks like you've made your choice." Adrian's voice came out rough. "She really needs someone right now." I pushed the cake into the trash. The frosting smeared across the black trash bag, pathetic as a bad joke. Adrian grabbed my wrist. "Serena, I'll be right back." I looked into his eyes. "If you walk out that door tonight, don't bother coming back." He went rigid. The phone rang a third time. Vivian sent a voice message, her words thick with tears. "Mr. Prescott, it hurts so much..." Adrian let go of me. He said quietly, "I'm just going to check on her." The second the door closed, I heard myself laugh. So that's the sound a heart makes when it breaks. Barely a whisper. Ten minutes later, I opened my laptop and started a new document. The title: Divorce Papers. I was on the asset division section when the front door lock suddenly clicked. I thought Adrian had come back, but standing outside was Vivian. She leaned on a crutch, her eyes rimmed red, a book in her hand. "Serena, Mr. Prescott said you misunderstood." She bit her lip and held the book out to me. "This is the book he reads to me every day. If you're not comfortable with it, you can listen in too." I looked at her and didn't take it. Her voice dropped lower. "Mr. Prescott is really tired, you know. Could you stop pressuring him?" I smiled. "Ms. Hayes, do you know what I'm best at?" "I'm best at making people cough up everything they've swallowed, with interest." Vivian's face changed. Before I closed the door, she suddenly spoke. "But Mr. Prescott said you'd never actually leave him." My hand stopped on the doorknob. Vivian looked at me, each word deliberate. "He said you're too smart. Smart people always weigh the pros and cons." Chapter 2 I stared at Vivian. The timidity in her eyes faded, replaced by a smugness she couldn't quite hide. Adrian probably had no idea that the helpless little rabbit he'd been rescuing had very sharp teeth. I asked, "What else did he say?" Vivian pressed her lips together. "I shouldn't have said that." "Then don't." I moved to close the door. But Vivian panicked. "Serena, you and Mr. Prescott don't even seem like a married couple anymore." I stopped. She seemed to finally have her chance. "He has to watch every word around you. He's afraid you'll pick him apart, afraid you'll lecture him, afraid you'll lawyer him into a corner. But with me, he relaxes. He laughs, he vents, he talks about his problems at work." I looked at her. "So you think you've won?" Vivian flushed. "I'm not trying to beat you." "Then why are you hobbling up here on a crutch in the middle of the night? To lecture me on the law?" She was stumped. I pulled out my phone. "Want me to call the police? Trespassing or harassment, your pick." Vivian's eyes went red instantly. The elevator doors opened, and Adrian strode out. He saw Vivian standing at my door and his expression changed immediately. "Vivi, what are you doing up here?" Vivian shrank. "I just wanted to explain things for you." Adrian steadied her, his movements so practiced it stung to watch. I leaned against the doorframe. "Now that the explaining is done, would you mind taking her away, Mr. Prescott?" Adrian turned to me. "Serena, her leg hasn't healed. Don't scare her." "I'm scaring her?" Vivian lowered her head. "Mr. Prescott, forget it. It's all my fault." I nearly laughed out loud. Hollywood’s wasting a talent not having her act. Adrian's voice hardened. "Serena, let's go home and talk." "This is my home." "It's my home too." "Not after tomorrow." A muscle in his brow twitched. "What's that supposed to mean?" I held up my phone screen for him to see. The first draft of the divorce papers was already saved. Adrian's face went ice-cold. "You want a divorce over something this small?" Something this small. I chewed on those words, then nodded. Adrian drew a deep breath. "Serena, marriage isn't one of your court cases. It's not black and white." "I never said it was." I glanced at Vivian. "But you two are looking pretty gray." Vivian's tears spilled over. "Serena, why do you have to assume the worst about us?" I asked, "Are you blameless?" Her crying hitched. Adrian stepped in front of her. "Enough." I looked at him. Six years of marriage, and this was the first time he'd physically shielded another woman behind him. How novel. And how revolting. I said, "Adrian, where are you sleeping tonight?" Adrian said nothing. Vivian tugged at his sleeve. "Mr. Prescott, go back to her. I can manage on my own." That's what her mouth said. Her hand didn't let go. Adrian looked at me for a long time. "Serena, you're too upset right now. We'll talk tomorrow." I nodded. "So you're staying with her tonight?" He didn't answer. I answered for him. "Fine." Adrian frowned. "Stop being passive-aggressive." I turned to go inside. He put his hand on the door. "Serena." I looked up. "Adrian, getting your hand caught in a door really hurts." He didn't let go. I shut it anyway. He let out a muffled grunt. From behind the door came Vivian's gasp. "Mr. Prescott!" I called through the door, "Sounds like Ms. Hayes isn't in pain anymore. She's got enough energy to shout." It went quiet outside. After what felt like a long time, Adrian's voice seeped through the door. "Serena, I'm really tired." I leaned against the door and said nothing. He continued, "You're always so sharp. Always so composed. I feel like a criminal in front of you." I looked down at my hands. My nails had dug into my palms, the pain sharp enough to keep me clearheaded. Adrian said, "But with her, I'm just Adrian." I closed my eyes. So before a man's heart strayed, he needed to find himself an innocent excuse first. I opened the door. A flicker of hope crossed Adrian's eyes. Vivian watched me too. I picked up his car keys from the shoe cabinet and held them out. "Then go be just Adrian." Adrian didn't take them. I pressed the keys into his hand. "Tomorrow morning at nine. I'll be waiting at the firm." His voice was very low. "What if I don't show?" I looked at him. "Then I'll show you that marriage really isn't black and white." I paused. "But assets can be." Chapter 3 Adrian didn't show. At nine in the morning, I sat in the conference room with two copies of the divorce papers in front of me. At nine thirty, Mia knocked and came in. "Serena, Mr. Prescott's secretary called. He has an urgent meeting today." I nodded. "Got it." Mia eyed me carefully. "So the papers..." "Send them over." "Do I need to attach anything?" I thought about it. "A business card." She blinked. "Whose?" I pulled a card from my drawer. "Mine." Mia's mouth twitched. "Serena, he knows who you are." I said, "Remind him how expensive I am." She took the files and left. I opened my laptop to work on cases. At eleven, Adrian called. I picked up. His voice was heavy with exhaustion. "Serena, do you really have to bring this to my office?" "I sent them to your home address." "My secretary got to them first." "That's a management issue on your end." Adrian held back his temper. "Can you stop debating every little thing?" I looked at the complaint on my screen. "No." Silence on the other end. "I didn't sleep last night." "Then go have Vivian read to you." His breathing grew heavier. "Serena, she and I aren't what you think." "Okay." "You don't believe me?" "I do." He was left with nothing to say. I went on, "I believe you two haven't slept together." Dead silence on the line. I said, "But Adrian, the time, the patience, the emotional energy that should have gone to me, you gave it all to her. Whether you slept together isn't the only measure." Adrian's voice was raw. "Then what do you want?" "Sign." "I won't." I pulled up my calendar. "Then we do this in court." He scoffed. "You're really something, Serena." I said nothing. Then Adrian added, "Your firm's biggest client was a referral from me." My hand on the mouse froze. He seemed to regret it immediately, his tone softening. "I'm not threatening you." I smiled. "You already did." "Serena, I just want you to calm down." "Adrian." I said his name. "Do you actually think my firm would collapse without you?" He didn't answer. That silence was worse than any answer. I hung up. That afternoon, the legal director at Sterling Group, our biggest client, invited me for coffee. When I arrived, she was already seated by the window. Her name was Crawford, mid-forties, sharp and no-nonsense. She saw me and got straight to the point. "Mr. Prescott called me this morning." I sat down. "Terminating the partnership?" Crawford smiled. "He did hint at it." "And?" "I asked him whether Prescott Group's legal department was so short-staffed that he had to start minding Sterling's business." I paused for a moment. Crawford picked up her coffee. "Ms. Ward, we hired you because of your skills, not because of whose wife you are." The knot in my chest loosened slightly. "Thank you." She waved it off. "Don't mention it. I've been through a divorce myself." I looked at her. Her voice was flat. "My ex-husband also thought I'd never leave him." "And then?" Crawford's smile was thin. "Then he went through bankruptcy proceedings. I represented the creditors." I couldn't help laughing. She slid a document across the table. "Next quarter's renewal." I opened it. The amount was thirty percent higher than the previous contract. Crawford said, "Ms. Ward, I value professionals." As I was signing, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: [Serena, Mr. Prescott didn't mean those things. He's just terrified of losing you.] I showed the text to Crawford. She glanced at it. "The other woman?" I corrected, "Attempted other woman." Crawford raised an eyebrow. "You're very precise." I replied to Vivian: [Ms. Hayes, I suggest you remember that texts can be traced back to their sender. If necessary, they can be submitted as evidence of harassment.] Vivian didn't reply. I thought she'd quieted down. Until I got home that evening. A crowd had gathered in the downstairs lobby. Vivian sat in a wheelchair, her face ashen. Adrian crouched in front of her, tucking a blanket around her legs. The property manager spotted me and called out awkwardly, "Mrs. Prescott." Everyone looked over. Vivian's eyes reddened. "Serena, don't blame Mr. Prescott. I fell down the stairs on my own." I paused mid-step. Adrian stood. "It's not what you think." I looked at him. "I haven't said anything yet." Vivian choked back tears. "But I know you're thinking I threw myself at him." I nodded. She froze. I said, "You've got a very accurate read on yourself." Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Adrian's expression was strained. "Serena, she just had a fall. Can you hold back for once?" I shot back, "No." He gritted his teeth. "You never used to be like this." "How was I before?" Vivian suddenly reached out and clutched Adrian's jacket. "Mr. Prescott, it hurts." Adrian looked down at her. In that instant, I saw tenderness in his eyes. Not obligation, not sympathy. A man's tenderness for a woman. I said nothing more and turned toward the elevator. Adrian took two steps after me. "Serena!" I hit the close button. Before the elevator doors shut, he asked, "What do you actually want from me?" I looked at him. "Get on your knees and beg. I still wouldn't want you." Chapter 4 Adrian came to the firm for the first time three days later. He hadn't made an appointment and was stopped at the front desk. I was coming out of the conference room when I spotted him standing in the reception area. His suit was wrinkled, stubble darkened his jaw, and he looked like he'd aged years overnight. The receptionist saw me and looked relieved. "Serena, Mr. Prescott says he absolutely has to see you." I nodded. "Let him in." Adrian followed me into my office. The moment the door closed, he placed a document on my desk. "This is a written pledge from Vivian." I didn't look at it. "What kind of pledge?" "She's promised never to contact me again and never to bother you." "Good." Something finally sparked in Adrian's eyes. "Serena, we can start over." I looked up at him. "Who's starting over with you?" The spark died. "I've handled it." "Handled what?" "Vivian." I leaned back in my chair. "Adrian, you still think the only problem is Vivian?" I picked up the voice recorder from my desk. The casing was old, a chip of silver paint missing. It was the first birthday gift Adrian ever gave me. Back then I'd just started practicing law, too broke to eat three meals a day. He'd saved for three months to buy me this recorder. He'd said, "Serena, every word you say in a courtroom deserves to be recorded." I really did carry it into many cases after that, winning many of them. I also used it to capture many ugly truths. Adrian saw the recorder and his expression stiffened. "What are you doing?" I pressed play. First came Vivian's voice. "Mr. Prescott, aren't you afraid Serena will get angry?" Then Adrian. "She won't actually go through with it." Vivian gave a small laugh. "Why not?" Adrian said, "She's too rational. Rational people calculate the cost before filing for divorce." My finger pressed flat against the desk. The recording went on. Adrian continued, "The firm, the clients, the connections, they're all tied to me. She won't give that up." Vivian asked, "Do you love her?" A long stretch of silence, then Adrian said, "I did." The office had gone unnervingly quiet. Adrian's face was drained of color. "When did you record this?" I said, "The night of your birthday." He jerked his head up. I looked at him calmly. "After you left, Vivian came to find me. I turned on the recorder." "Then you walked her back and had quite the chat in the hallway." The recording played Adrian's voice again. "She'll never leave me. She's too rational, which actually makes her the easiest to manipulate." Adrian lunged to shut off the recorder. I raised my hand and blocked him. His voice trembled. "Serena, those were angry words." "I know." "You know, and you're still using them to hurt me?" I smiled. "Adrian, so you do know those words hurt." His eyes reddened. "I never sleep with her." "I told you, that's not the only measure." "Then what exactly are you charging me with?" I looked at him. "Infidelity." Adrian clenched his fists. "Emotional cheating counts?" "In my marriage, it does." He closed his eyes. When he opened them, the whites were shot through with red. "Serena, have you ever considered that you might be part of the problem?" I nodded. "I have." He stared. I said, "My biggest mistake was treating a man drowning in insecurity and vanity as someone I could stand beside as an equal." Adrian's expression shifted violently. "That's how you see me?" "It's not how I see you." I pushed the divorce papers across the desk. "It's who you've made yourself into." He stared at the papers, then suddenly laughed. An ugly laugh. "What if I don't sign?" "Court." "What if I pull your clients?" "Go ahead." He fixed me with a hard stare. "Serena, don't push me." I picked up my phone. "Adrian, want to guess whether I turned on a second recorder just now?" He went completely rigid. I dialed my assistant. "Mia, come in for a moment." Mia pushed the door open. I handed her the papers. "Draft a memo of everything Mr. Prescott just said." Adrian shot to his feet. "Serena!" I looked up. "What's wrong? Scared?" His chest heaved. Then he suddenly snatched the papers and tore them in half. The pieces drifted to the floor. He said, "I will not get divorced." I looked at the paper scattered across the floor and didn't feel even a flicker of anger. Adrian walked to the door, turned back, his voice so low it seemed forced through gritted teeth. "Serena, you'll leave me over my dead body." I pressed the stop button on the recorder. "Alright then." He froze. I placed the recorder in the drawer. "See you in court."