After My Ex Betrayed Me, I Chose the Man Who Waited

I bought a dress for six hundred bucks using my husband's shared payment account. Half an hour later, police officers showed up at my door, saying I was suspected of credit card fraud.

I didn't panic. I called my husband first.

He hung up. Texted backIn a meeting.

The officers were about to take me in when his secretary called, voice dripping with superiorityMs. Henson, CEO Whitney asked me to file the report. He says all you do is spend his money and bleed him dry. He's put up with it long enough.

I laughed.

What the secretary didn't know was that Daryl Whitney's CEO title had been bought and paid for by my father.

I was the company's legal representative. The accounts were under my name. The card linked to that shared payment account was funded every month by my father.

As for Darylon his best day, he wasn't worth the dirt on my heels.

Tell Daryl, I said into the phone, the agreement he signed the day he married into my family. Clause Seven. Have him refresh his memory.

The secretary went silent. When she spoke again, her voice was shakingCEO Henson?

Too late.

I hung up and turned to the officersFamily matter. Sorry you came out for nothing.

After the officers left, I called Daryl.

This time he picked up instantly.

Honey, I swear I didn't know the secretary did that on her own

Daryl, I cut him off, my voice even, I told you the day you came on board. You want out, you can go. You leave the marriage with nothing. Since you feel so wronged, go ahead.

Silence on the other end for a long time.

Finally he said one wordFine.

The secretary's call came while two officers were still planted in my living room.

Ms. Henson, CEO Whitney asked us to file the report. He says all you do is spend his money and bleed him dry. He's put up with it long enough.

The officers looked at me. Their expressions said plenty.

I took my time reaching into my bag, pulled out my ID, and handed it over.

Officers, this card was set up by my father. Every monthly deposit is on record. I'm spending my own money. How exactly is that fraud?

One of the officers took the ID, glanced at it, then looked back at me.

Sort out your family business yourselves. But since a report was filed, we have to follow procedure.

No need.

I called Daryl. He hung up.

A text came throughIn a meeting.

I called the secretary instead.

Tell Daryl. The agreement he signed the day he married into my family. Clause Seven. Have him refresh his memory.

Silence on the other end.

When she spoke again, her voice had changed completelyCEO Henson?

I hung up.

The agreement Daryl signed on our wedding day.

Clause Sevenif the husband interfered with the wife's normal spending in any way, he automatically forfeited all post-marital property rights.

Daryl had read that clause, hesitated for three seconds, and signed anyway.

Because his father's company was waiting on my investment.

Not long after the officers left, Daryl came home.

When he walked through the door, I was drinking a yogurt.

Honey, I swear I didn't know the secretary did that on her own

You didn't know?

I looked at him. Your secretary calls the police without your go-ahead? If you hadn't said it to her face first, whatshe's just insane?

Daryl had nothing.

He slipped off his jacket, draped it over the couch, and came over to sit beside me.

I didn't move. I didn't look at him either.

I was just venting, I didn't think she'd actually do it

Just venting, and the police showed up at my door. Daryl, that mouth of yours is really something.

He went quiet.

I finished the yogurt, set the cup on the table, and looked up at him.

I told you the day you came on board. You want out, you can go. You leave the marriage with nothing. Since you feel so wronged, go ahead.

Daryl's face changed.

Cicely, that's not what I meant

I don't care what you meant. You called the police and said I committed fraud. That's already done. You've been enduring me a long time? Well, I've been enduring you just as long. Perfect.

He stood up, walked over, and crouched in front of me, looking up at my face.

Two years of marriage, and every time he wanted something from me, this was the pose.

The first time was the proposal. The second was getting my father to invest in his project. The third was when his father's company ran out of cash.

Now the fourth.

Cicely, I was wrong. I was really wrong.

No, you weren't. I looked down at him. Everything you said was true. I do spend money all day. I do take advantage of you. You couldn't stand it anymore. That's perfectly normal.

That's not what I

Then why did you call the police?

He had nothing to say to that.

I stood up. He followed, reaching for my hand. I pulled away.

I'll have my lawyer draft the agreement. That shared payment account you've been usingcancel it today. The company seal and the legal representative status are both under my name. You don't need to worry about any of it. Just pack your things and go.

What about the company? he finally asked.

The company has nothing to do with you. My father funded it. The legal representative and the accounts are both in my name.

But I

You what? How much did you actually contribute? Daryl, that project of yoursfrom approval to launch, which part wasn't your father begging my father to make happen? What did you do yourself?

His face went red.

I looked at him and suddenly found him boring. I used to think he was good-looking, knew how to talk, the kind of man you were proud to have on your arm.

Now? Just another face.

I'm giving you three days.

I picked up my phone and headed for the master bedroom.

He grabbed my wrist.

Cicely, you really want to do this?

Do what?

Aren't you afraid of what people will say

Say what? That you married into my family, spent my family's money, and then called the police on me? Are you really sure I'm the one who should be embarrassed?

His grip loosened.

I went into the bedroom and shut the door.

Half an hour later, my parents arrived.

My mother started shouting the second she walked inWhere's Daryl? Get him out here!

Daryl came out of the study, white as a sheet.

My father sat on the couch, legs crossed, watching him.

Daryl. Tell me what happened.

Daryl stood there, mouth opening and closing, and finally managedDad, I was confused.

Don't call me that. My father's voice was quiet, but cold. When you signed the agreement, you said you'd treat Cicely well. It's been two years, and you called the police to have her arrested?

I didn't mean to call the police, it was my secretary

She's your secretary, not some hitman you hired. She does what you tell her. What's your point?

Daryl went silent.

My mother turned to meAre you alright?

I'm fine.

Where's the dress? Let me see it.

I blinked, caught off guard.

My mother shot me a lookA six-hundred-dollar dress and you couldn't just buy it? You had to swipe his card?

It's Dad's card

Your father's card is your card. Now explaindid Daryl stop you from using it, or did you just refuse to?

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

Daryl stood there with his head down, like a schoolkid caught misbehaving.

My mother walked right up to him.

How much do you make in a month? Where does the money you spend come from? Have you ever bought your wife a single piece of clothing?

Daryl said nothing.

Whose house are you living in? Whose car are you driving? Who gave you that position at the company?

Daryl's lips moved. Nothing came out.

I asked you a question! My mother's voice went up a notch.

It wasDad gave it to me.

And you called the police on my daughter?

I didn't

You didn't call them? Then who did, a ghost?

Daryl shut his mouth for good.

My father stood up.

Three days. You have three days to get out. The house, the car, the companyall of it comes back. Don't like it? Sue me. I'll be right here.

Daryl lifted his head, looked at my father, then at me.

His eyes were red.

I didn't look at him.

My mother pulled me into the bedroom and shut the door.

Good riddance. I never liked him.

Why didn't you say so earlier?

Would you have listened? Back then you thought he hung the moon. Like I could've stopped you.

I said nothing.

My mother pulled out her phone and started showing me photos.

This one is Minnie Chavez's son. Came back from the States, works in finance. And this one is Uncle Li's nephew, started his own company

Mom, I'm barely divorced.

Exactly why you need to start planning ahead.

I stared at her, caught somewhere between laughing and crying.

The front door opened and closed.

Daryl was gone.

I opened the bedroom door. My father was still sitting in the living room.

He left? I asked.

He left. My father looked at me. You're sure about this?

I'm sure.

Then get it done.

Three days later, Daryl came back to collect his things.

He hired movers. They packed two boxes.

I stood in the doorway and watched.

When everything was loaded, he stood on the sidewalk below and looked up at me.

I didn't go downstairs.

He stood there for a while, then turned and left.

The lawyer sent over the signed agreement while I was eating dinner with my mother.

He signed?

He signed.

Good. Clean and quick.

My mother placed a spare rib on my plate.

So, how about meeting Minnie's son?

Mom

Just a meeting. Nobody's making you marry him.

I gritted my teeth.

Fine.

The next afternoon, I was sitting in a caf.

Across from me was a man in glasses and a white dress shirt, speaking in an unhurried, measured tone.

Ms. Henson, Minnie has told me about you.

What did she say?

That you're exceptional.

I gave a polite smile.

He slid a business card across the table.

I'm a financial analyst at a major investment bank. Salary's around four hundred thousand a year. My parents are both back home, retired, fully covered by insurance and savings. They don't need me to support them.

I picked up the card and glanced at it.

If you're that much of a catch, why do you need a blind date?

He smiled.

Too busy for dating. And.

He paused.

I don't want someone who's too materialistic.

I set the card down.

Do you think I'm materialistic?

Not at all.

Then you're wrong. I'm very materialistic.

He froze.

I stood up.

Sorry, I have somewhere to be.

Outside the caf, I texted my motherNot a match.

She replied instantlyHow is he not a match?

I thought for a second, then typed two wordsToo pretentious.

After I got in the car, a text came in from an unknown number.

Cicely, I was wrong. Can we talk?

Daryl.

I deleted the message and blocked his number.

Halfway home, Gloria Fox called.

I heard you got divorced?

Word travels fast.

Drinks tonight? My treat.

Sure.

Ten o'clock. I walked into the bar, and Gloria already had a glass going.

Come on, sit down.

I sat. She poured me a drink.

Daryl Whitney, that piece of trash. I never could stand him.

You couldn't stand him either, even back then?

Who could? Out there every day playing big shot, then coming home for you to wait on him hand and foot. He's nothing.

I took a sip.

Forget it. Let's not talk about him.

Right. No more talking. Just drinking.

Halfway through the bottle, Gloria leaned in close.

Hey, I want to tell you something.

Go ahead.

You remember the VP at my company? Grant James?

Yeah. What about him?

He asked me for your WhatsApp.

My hand froze mid-pour.

What does he want my WhatsApp for?

What do you think? He likes you.

He's seen me?

Yeah. Last time you came to the office to find me, he ran into you in the elevator. Came right back and asked me who the gorgeous woman was.

I thought about it. Couldn't even remember anyone else being in the elevator.

What does he look like?

Gloria pulled up a photo and showed me.

Not bad. Big eyes, dimples when he smiled.

Two years younger than you. Family's in building materials. Not crazy rich, but not hurting either. Good guy. No pretenses.

How do you know he's not pretending?

I've worked with the man for three years. You think I can't tell?

I didn't say anything.

Gloria pushed his contact card straight to me.

Add him or don't. Either way, one more friend never hurts.

Back home, I showered and lay in bed, the glow of the contact card Gloria had sent still on my screen. I stared at it for a while, then added him.

He accepted instantly.

Cicely?

Mm.

I'm Grant.

I know.

Gloria gave me your WhatsApp. Hope you don't mind.

I don't.

Then his side went quiet for about two minutes.

I was about to put my phone down when another message came through.

Are you free Saturday? I want to take you out for a meal.

I thought for a second, then typedWhat time?

Whatever works for you.

Noon.

Done. I'll send you the address.

Saturday. When I got to the restaurant, Grant was already there.

He stood up. Black jacket, hair a little shorter than in his photo.

Been waiting long?

No, I just got here too.

He pulled out a chair for me.

Handed me the menu first.

Go ahead and order. I'll eat anything.

I picked a few dishes and gave the menu back.

He added a soup and a dessert.

How'd you know I have a sweet tooth?

Gloria told me.

What else did she tell you?

That you like spicy food, hate cilantro, only drink lattes, and won't touch bitter melon.

I laughed.

You two are pretty close, huh.

She's my boss. I don't have a choice.

He didn't talk much over the meal, but there were no lulls eitherwork, movies, a book he'd been reading.

I asked which book. He said One Hundred Years of Solitude.

Did you actually understand it?

Not really. But Gloria said guys who read it seem cultured.

My chopsticks paused.

You're honest, I'll give you that.

No point faking it. You'd figure it out sooner or later.

I looked at him and thought of the JPMorgan analyst from a couple of days ago. Really not the same at all.

After the meal, he walked me to my car.

Next time's on me, I said.

Sure. I'll wait for your message.

On the way home, Gloria called.

How'd it go?

Not bad.

Just not bad?

What do you want me to say? That it was amazing?

Gloria laughed on the other end.

Grant already spilled. Says you're way better-looking in person than in photos.

He's seen my photos?

I posted some from a company dinner a while back. He saw them and saved one on the sly.

I couldn't help laughing.

Doesn't that count as selling out your friend?

I call it helping nature take its course.

After I hung up, I reached my front door and saw someone crouching by the building entrance.

Daryl.

He stood up and looked at me.

Cicely.

I ignored him and walked past.

He grabbed my arm.

Just let me say a few things.

I shook his hand off.

Talk.

What are you going to do with the company?

None of your business.

But I built that from the ground up

You built it? Who put up the startup capital? Who introduced the first client? Whose space was it? Daryl, hand on your hearttell me that was yours.

He had nothing to say.

I opened the door. He stayed outside.

Cicely, I really do know I was wrong.

Then go fix it. Don't come to me.

I shut the door.

The next morning, my father called.

Daryl's father phoned me.

What did he say?

That the kids don't know any better, asked if we'd give him another chance.

Did you?

I said it's not my call. I'd have to ask you.

I thought about it for a second.

No.

Done. My father hung up.

I thought that would be the end of it.

That afternoon, Daryl's mother showed up.

Two cartons of milk, a basket of fruit, standing at my door.

Cicely, I just came to see how you're doing.

I let her in.

She sat on the couch and took my hands.

Daryl's still young, he doesn't know better. I've already given him a piece of my mind. Every young couple has their fights, don't they?

Ma'am, this wasn't a fight. He called the police on me.

That was his secretary acting on her own

You really believe that?

She froze.

I pulled my hands back.

Ma'am, the agreement's been signed. The divorce is final. None of this changes anything.

Her eyes went red.

Cicely, if only for my sake

Please don't put me in this position.

After I walked her out, I sat on the couch and just sat there. Not tired in my body. Tired somewhere I couldn't rest away.

I picked up my phone and saw a message from Grant.

Home safe?

Yep.

Get some rest. Good night.

Good night.

The next day at work, the front desk told me someone was here to see me.

I walked out. It was Daryl.

He stood in the lobby in a suit, hair combed neatly into place.

Ms. Henson.

I looked at him.

What is it?

I'd like to come back and work at the company.

You're not an employee here anymore.

I know. I want to reapply.

I almost laughed.

On what basis?

I know every workflow in this company. I have two years of industry experience. I have

Because you're my ex-husband?

He shut his mouth.

I looked at him and said it word by word.

Daryl, your rsum wouldn't even make it past the first screening.

The color drained from his face.

Cicely, you're really that heartless?

This isn't heartless. This is business.

I turned and left.

Back at my office, a message from Gloria came in.

Grant wants to know if you're working late tonight. He wants to take you to dinner.

Tell him to ask me himself.

Five minutes later, Grant's message arrived.

Are you free tonight?

Yes.

What do you feel like eating?

You pick.

Okay.

At dinner, Grant watched me.

You don't seem like yourself today.

How could you tell?

When you smile, your eyes don't follow.

That caught me off guard.

You're pretty observant.

Not observant. Just paying attention.

I looked down and drank my soup without answering.

He didn't push.

After dinner, he drove me home.

Downstairs, he parked and turned to look at me.

Cicely.

Hm?

If having dinner with me feels like pressure, we can start as friends.

I looked at him. The streetlamp caught his face, and his eyes were very bright.

Okay.

He smiled.

See you tomorrow?

See you tomorrow.

I went upstairs, showered, and lay down in bed.

My phone chimed once.

Grant had sent a photo of tonight's moon.

The moon's lovely tonight.

I tilted my head toward the window. Not a trace of moon out there.

Liar.

I replied anyway.

It really is.

Gloria called just as I walked out of the courthouse.

Done?

Done.

Good riddance. Drinks tonight?

Sure.

I hung up and stood at the curb waiting for a ride.

My phone buzzed. Daryl.

You really think this is fair to me?

I didn't reply.

Another message followedMy dad's in the hospital. Happy now?

I stared at the screen for two seconds, then still didn't reply.

In the car, the driver asked where to.

I rattled off my home addressthen heard myself and went quiet. It wasn't really home anymore.

Daryl's things had been moved out yesterday. My mother had sent someone over this morning to change the locks.

At the front door, I ran into Sybilla Lambert from across the hall.

Cicely, how come your Daryl moved out?

We got divorced.

Sybilla's mouth opened and closed like she'd swallowed an egg whole.

I unlocked the door and went inside. Half the living room was empty.

Daryl had taken the couch set he liked, claiming he'd paid for it.

I hadn't argued. It was just a couch.

There was half a carton of milk left in the fridge. I took a sip and it had already gone sour.

I tossed it, sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, and suddenly had no idea what to do with myself.

My phone rang again.

Mom.

Come home for dinner tonight. Your father made spare ribs.

I made plans with Gloria.

Then come for lunch tomorrow.

Okay.

I hung up, showered, and changed.

By the time I left, it was already dark.

Gloria was already there when I arrived at the bar, two drinks set out in front of her.

This one's yours.

She slid a glass over.

I sat down and took a sip.

So? How does freedom feel?

Eh.

Eh? You should be throwing a parade.

I didn't say anything.

Gloria looked at me and put down her glass.

Don't tell me you're actually sad.

I'm not sad.

Then why is it written all over your face?

I touched my own cheek.

Maybe I'm just not used to it yet.

Not used to what? Not having someone to piss you off? Not having someone complain about how much you spend?

She was right.

Daryl said I spent too much money, but the watch on his wrist was one I bought. The shirt on his back was one I bought. Even his mother's birthday gift was one I picked out.

Stop thinking about it.

Gloria poured more wine. Here, look at this.

She pulled out her phone and tapped open a photo.

A man in a dark blue hoodie, sitting in a caf, eyes on his laptop.

What do you think?

Think about what?

He went to college with my husband. Works at a bank. Single.

I pushed the phone back.

I just got divorced.

Nobody's saying marry him tomorrow. Just meet up, have a chat. What's the harm?

No.

Gloria shot me a look.

You're way too picky. You could go for someone like Daryl, and now a better catch comes along and you don't want him?

Was Daryl really that great?

You thought so back then, didn't you?

I didn't answer.

Back then was back then.

Back then I thought he was ambitious, had ideas, knew how to talk sweet.

It wasn't until after the wedding that I realized ambition, sometimes, is just a bottomless pit.

His ideas always outran his ability, and the sweet talk never turned into anything real.

By the second glass, Gloria's husband came to pick her up.

I'm heading out. Don't stay too late.

I know.