He Called Me His Mother’s Killer And Tried To Transfer Me To His Friend Chapter 01

It took me fourteen years of marriage to realize that my husband, Grant Halvorsen, hated me.

In his eyes, I was the woman who killed his mother.

I stood frozen outside the door, holding his favorite meatloaf and roasted potatoes, when I heard him talking to his best friend, Deke, who’d never been married.

“If Mara hadn’t insisted on that $80,000 before wedding, my mom wouldn’t have worked herself to death!”

“I stuck it out for years because the boys were little. Now they’re older, and Tessa’s divorced and finally free of that miserable marriage.”

“All I need is $300,000 in cash, and Tessa’s willing to give us another shot.”

“If I’d known you’d been secretly in love with my wife all these years, I’d have handed her over to you years ago!”

Tessa Bracken was his first love. Back then, she thought he was too broke, so she married someone else.

My blood ran cold.

All these years, he hadn’t just been hung up on his first love. He’d also seen me as his enemy!

Then Grant dropped a bomb.

“Look, buddy, you give me $300,000, and she’s all yours.”

“You get what you want, I get what I want. Win-win.”

His buddy lit up. “Deal. She’s mine!”

Grant beamed.

That very night, he finally told me he wanted a divorce.

“Let’s get divorced. You won’t have to pay a dime in child support.”

I kept folding clothes, my tone flat.

“Fine.”

—

Grant’s eyes widened. He was so caught off guard he couldn’t speak.

“Have you been wanting to divorce me for a while? Is that why you’re saying yes so fast?”

He was the one who couldn’t wait to get divorced. Yet now that I’d agreed, he looked almost disappointed. He hadn’t even noticed I was packing my own things.

My face didn’t change, but my voice went cold.

“You’re not the type to joke about something like this.”

“If you’re bringing it up, then you’ve already made up your mind.”

“There’s no point dragging this out when our marriage is already over. We’d both be better off making a clean break.”

He stood a few feet away.

The house was dead quiet. I heard him exhale in relief.

“Fine. Tomorrow we’ll go down to the county clerk’s office and file the papers.”

“It’s not like we have much property anyway. Nothing worth splitting.”

We’d been married for fourteen years. Our older son, Ethan, was thirteen, and our younger son, Noah, was eleven.

His father, Walter Halvorsen, wasn’t in great health and lived with us. We’d only paid off the house last year.

We had just $20,000 in savings.

Grant had worked as an administrative coordinator at his company for years. His annual salary had been around $52,000 a few years earlier.

But the economy had tanked these past two years, and his company was struggling. His salary had dropped to $42,000 a year.

When the boys were little, there was no one to look after them, so I had to stay home and raise them full-time.

I’d only gone back to work two years ago. Now I made around $58,000 a year.

Truth is, life with Grant was never easy.

And he was right about one thing. We didn’t have much to divide.

All we owned was the modest three-bedroom house in an older neighborhood on the outskirts of Maple Grove, and a used car we’d had for five years.

I kept my voice calm.

“You were the one who asked for the divorce.”

“You don’t have to look out for me, but Ethan and Noah are still your sons.”

“Put the house in their names. That’s my only condition.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Fine.”

He rubbed his stomach and checked his phone.

“It’s already eight thirty. What’s for dinner?”

I shot back coldly, “We’re getting divorced, and you still expect me to be your free cook and maid?”

He paused, then put on his best holier-than-thou act.

“We were married fourteen years. Can’t we at least end things on good terms? Do we really have to keep score already?”

I packed my clothes into my suitcase.

My throat tightened.

At this point, even one more word was too much.