Delaney James was wearing Chanel the night her husband told her he didn't love her anymore.
In an instant, her picture-perfect Manhattan life-complete with a brownstone on the Upper East Side, a blossoming career as a fashion journalist, and a devas...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He cut me off.
My God, he cut me off.
I should've expected it—everything he's done so far has been cruel—but I thought he'd at least wait until the divorce was final. Then again, Chelsea's probably chomping at the bit to have him all to herself. She wants the life I had—the house, the luxury, the name. She thinks he'll be different for her. But everyone knows the rule: if they cheated with you, they'll cheat on you.
My phone trembles in my hand as I read his text again. He can't do this. He can't do this. How is this legal? You can't just cut your spouse off and leave them with nothing. Can you?
No. No, fuck this.
I pull up Google and scroll until I find what I want to see.
Me: You can't do this. Google says you can't legally remove me from your health insurance while our divorce is pending. Once proceedings start, you can't remove me.
The typing bubble appears. Vanishes. Appears again. Finally—
Will: I removed you before I filed. I know the laws, Delaney. Don't try and fight me on this. You'll lose.
My chest tightens.
Me: What about the checking account? You can't just take all the money. I won't have anything.
Ten long minutes. Then—
Will: Not my problem.
I stab his contact and hit call. One ring. Straight to voicemail. I don't leave a message—I just flip my middle finger at the phone when his voice comes on.
Real mature, I know.
Me: You can't do this!
Another bubble.
Will: It's already done.
The words slam into me. My blood roars in my ears. The porch tilts, the world spins. My heart races so fast it feels like it might crack my ribs. Pins and needles prickle through my hands, my feet. I can't catch my breath.
No money. No safety net. Just Nico's generosity and a church paycheck that barely scrapes minimum wage. That won't last. It won't even cover the summer.
And then what?
What am I supposed to do about health insurance? I can't afford it on my own. The church doesn't offer benefits. I'm too old for my parents' plan. And if Will cut me off before he filed, that means I wasn't covered when I was admitted after the Ambien disaster.
How will I pay that bill?
How am I supposed to survive this? How am I supposed to live?
