Back To 1981, No More Wife, No More Mother Chapter 08

Back To 1981, No More Wife, No More Mother Chapter 08

The case wasn’t resolved overnight, despite all the gossip tearing through town.

First came the hearing.

Then the state university revoked Nicole’s admission.

After that, the postal inspector and the county prosecutor got involved. James and Nicole’s lawyers tried to make it all sound like a family misunderstanding. But the documents, the handwriting, the mailing records, the photo studio pictures, and the statements from more than a dozen neighbors at the party — they wove an inescapable net around the pair.

In the end, both of them accepted a formal plea bargain.

James was convicted of mail theft, forging enrollment paperwork, unlawful restraint, and related domestic violence charges. He got time in county jail, plus fines and probation.

Nicole was convicted of helping forge documents, attempting to use someone else’s financial aid forms, and letting Daniel start the fire. She got a short jail sentence and long-term probation.

They didn’t leave town in victory like they did in my past life.

Everyone watched as they walked into the county courthouse with their heads down.

After the verdict, with help from a local nonprofit legal aid clinic for women, I filed for divorce.

At first, James refused to sign.

He sent me several letters.

The first one said he was sorry.

The second said Nicole had tricked him.

The third called me names — said a divorced woman with a kid would never get real respect, even if she went to college.

I handed every letter to my lawyer.

Eventually, he stopped writing.

A month later, I took my acceptance letter, a worn leather suitcase, and the twenty dollars Margaret Turner had secretly slipped me, and boarded a Greyhound bus bound for the state university.

It was early morning. The town was still asleep.

The streets outside the window were wet. The neon sign at the diner was still on. A faded old song played on the radio. The driver tore off my ticket slip and handed me the remaining stub.

I held it like a ticket to a new life.

College was harder than I’d imagined.

I lived in the cheapest dorm, sharing a room with two girls straight out of high school. They went to the movies on weekends and tried on lipstick at the mall. I spent most of my time in the library.

I went to class during the day and worked at the campus dining hall at night. On weekends, I helped run the sign-in desk at the computer lab. There were vintage CRT computer terminals inside, their screens glowing green, their keys clicking with every stroke.

The first time I saw those machines, I stood in the doorway for a long time.

I realized, all at once, that the world was moving forward.

And this time, I wasn’t being left behind.

A year later, James showed up at the campus gate.

He wore a beat-up leather jacket. His hair was a mess. He looked like life had worn him down completely. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he hurried over.

“Grace! I finally found you!”

I stepped back, out of his reach.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes got wet, his voice thick.

“Grace, once I got out, I saw the place falls apart without you. Daniel’s out of control and runs with the wrong crowd. He won’t admit it, but he misses you bad.”

I looked at him and felt nothing but disgust.

“So you came back because no one cooks for you and no one deals with Daniel?”

His face stiffened.

“That’s not it! I truly want a fresh start. Let’s get remarried. Daniel needs a full family unit.”

“James,” I said calmly, “has prison addled your common sense?”

His face turned red.

“Don’t get above yourself, Grace Whitman. You think that college diploma makes you something big? Don’t forget your past: you’re divorced with a kid. Who else is gonna take you?”

I was about to answer when a clear voice came from behind me.

“She doesn’t need a man’s approval to have worth.”

I turned. Amanda Clarke stood on the steps, holding a stack of textbooks. She was the student body president, and the first real friend I’d made here.

Amanda walked to my side and gave James a cold stare.

“Grace is a top student and a scholarship recipient. Her worth doesn’t need a man to prove it.”

James looked her up and down, shame and resentment flickered in his eyes.

“Who are you to talk? This is between me and my wife.”

“Ex-wife,” I corrected him. “We’re divorced.”

Students passing by stopped to watch. Some frowned. Others whispered. This wasn’t that small town where everyone just listened to whatever James said.

James saw that no one was on his side. His tone shifted.

“Grace, Daniel’s running a fever. He keeps calling out for you in his sleep. Just come check on him, even if it’s just for a minute.”

“If he’s sick, take him to a medical clinic.”

“He’s your flesh and blood!” he shouted, his voice rising. “You’re off enjoying city life, and you’re turning your back on your own boy?”

Amanda stepped in front of me.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

My roommate walked over too.

“Grace, do you want us to call campus security?”

James’s face alternated between red and ashen.

He’d tried to shame me into giving in, just like he used to.

But this time, the people standing next to me weren’t cold-eyed neighbors from a small town.

They were my friends. My classmates. The people who had seen me build a new life.

James finally turned and left, grinding his teeth.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Later, I heard that both he and Nicole had left town. No one would hire them anymore. No one invited them to barbecues. No one believed their “misunderstanding” stories anymore.

They drifted westward until they vanished into some desolate, forgotten corner of the country.

As for Daniel, he left home when he turned eighteen. He sent me a postcard once. No apology. Just said he needed money.

I didn’t write back.

Years passed. I got my degree, then applied to graduate school, focusing on computer science and business systems. Those years, tech companies were sprouting up across California like weeds after rain. I started with basic data entry and slowly established myself in this new industry.

Amanda stayed my friend through all of it.

Later, I met a man who was kind and respectful. He didn’t try to save me. He didn’t ask me to forget the past. He just stood beside me and said:

“Grace, your life didn’t start with me. It’s always been your own.”

We married. A year later, our daughter was born.

Holding her in my arms, my eyes filled with tears.

In this life, I finally had a home that was truly mine.

As for the ones who stole my life before — they’re stuck living in the misery they created for themselves.

I still have a long road ahead — and my future burns bright.