My best friend got divorced. When I said I wanted
one too, everyone laughed.
My husband, Blake, laughed the loudest. “Your friend has a career and a degree. She can be beautiful and independent without a man. Do you have a degree? Do you have your own money? And you dare to talk
about divorce?”
I dropped out of an Ivy League school to help him build his company from the ground up. Now, that was a stain on my record. He thought I was no longer
good enough for him.
Seeing my silence, Blake’s laughter grew louder, crue- ler. “So why are you even trying to keep up? What would you have without me? Could you even survive? You want to be like her? You’re not worthy.”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I can.”
I thought Blake was hilarious. I could walk away with half his fortune. I could go anywhere, find any man I
wanted. Why couldn’t I survive?
1
The laughter in the private lounge intensified. Even my best friend, Phoebe, was teasing me. “Zoe, you adore your Blake. You’d never leave him. Besides, where would you find a man as good as him?”
Blake sipped his whiskey, his arm draped casually over the back of the sofa, one leg crossed over the other. He took a drag from his cigarette and blew a perfect smoke ring. “She’s just getting ahead of hers- elf. Thinks she can leave me and find someone with
Chapter 1
my kind of status.”
08:59
One of Blake’s friends nearly fell off his chair laughi- ng. “Zoe, if you actually divorce Blake, I’ll do a hands- tand and take a crap, I swear!”
Another one chimed in immediately. “Hahaha! You’d
have to take laxatives for that! I’ll be there to film it!”
“Hahahaha!”
Even the young hostess sitting next to Blake giggled. “Mrs. Thorne, we all know you’d never leave Mr. Tho- rne! A man like him? If you let him go, there’s a line of women waiting to take your place.”
This was Hannah, the girl from the club who served the drinks. She knew perfectly well I was Blake’s wife, but she was still pressed up against him, her body practically draped over his.
No one seemed to think anything of it.
After her comment, the room erupted in another
wave of laughter.
I usually hated places like this. I only came tonight because Phoebe was celebrating her newfound free- dom.
I turned to Hannah first. “So, that line of women incl- udes you, then?”
The smile froze on her face. “Mrs. Thorne, I was just kidding! Mr. Thorne would never be interested in me!” She pouted and looked at Blake. “She can’t even take a joke!”
Blake’s smile had vanished. His expression was unre- adable.
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08:59
“I was joking too,” I said, my voice flat. “Why are you
so worked up? Can’t you take a joke?”
Hannah opened her mouth to retort, but a subtle
shift in Blake’s expression stopped her. She lowered
her head, her eyes red with fake tears, and started
pouring drinks for everyone.
Blake’s Friend #1, clearly feeling sorry for the hostess,
grumbled at me, “It was a joke, Zoe! Everyone knows Blake is yours. No one’s trying to steal him! He’d
never divorce you, you can relax!”
I looked at him, my face a mask of calm. “So, when I do get a divorce, you’ll be here first thing to perform your spinning handstand shit, right?”
He was speechless.
Friend #2 slapped the table, laughing even harder. Zoe, you’re hilarious! Hahaha! The way she says it with a straight face is so funny! Hahahaha!”
11
turned my calm gaze on him. “And when he starts his performance, please make sure you stand close. Get an even coating. Then send me the video. I’ll post it online so everyone can enjoy it.”
He stared at me, dumbfounded.
The jovial atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a strange, tense silence.
This was Phoebe’s party. She tried to break the awk-
wardness.
But I wasn’t done with her either. “He’s such a great man, my husband. Why don’t I give him to you? You’re single now. You two would make a perfect pair. Wh-
at do you think?”
Chapter 1
09:00
Phoebe stared at me, a whole segment of orange in
her mouth. She forgot to chew, swallowing it whole.
“Cough, cough, cough…”
Finally, I looked at Blake. Every eye in the room foll-
owed mine.
His brow was furrowed so tightly it could have crus-
hed a fly. “Zoe! Everyone is just joking. What is the
point of making this so awkward? Apologize to them.
Now.”
“No, no, it’s fine!” Phoebe said quickly. “Zoe and I always talk like this. She was just kidding! Today is
about celebrating my new life. Zoe, don’t be a spoil- sport. Let’s raise a glass to me!”
“To Phoebe!”
“To being single!”
Everyone stood up. Phoebe was trying to defuse the
situation.
So I smashed my glass on the floor, letting the “spoi- Isport” act play out to its conclusion.
Blake exploded. He flipped the entire coffee table
over. “Zoe! I’ve given you enough slack! Phoebe gave you an out, and you wouldn’t take it! What, you think you’re better than all of us? If you don’t apologize
today, I’m divorcing you!”
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
I took out my phone and sent him the divorce agre-
ement. “Read the terms. If you have no objections, I’ll
print it out tonight, and you can sign.”
Blake’s rage turned to shock, then to utter disbelief.
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09:00
He looked up, searching my face for any sign that I was joking. He must have seen it clearly–the date on the document was from six months ago.
I grabbed my purse and left without a backward gla-
nce.
I had long since grown sick of these self–important ” high–society” gatherings. They always used me as the butt of their jokes, and Blake always laughed along with them.
I had told him before, “Don’t invite me to these thin- gs anymore. I don’t like it.”
He’d said, “They’re my business partners, my friends. You’re my wife. You need to get along with them. Besides, they’re just joking. Zoe, you’re not a child. Why can’t you take a joke? Don’t be so sensitive.”
He always said that. Sometimes, I wondered if I really was too sensitive. I asked Phoebe once. She was a successful career woman; her opinion held weight.
“1
“Blake’s company is just getting started,” she’d said. ‘ His friends are just teasing you to have some fun, to make conversation. It’s business. Don’t take it seriou- sly. It’s all for Blake’s career.‘
Later, Blake’s company grew more and more success- ful. His “partners” became his clients. They depended on him for their livelihood. But they still used me as their favorite topic of conversation whenever I was around. Even the hostesses and waitstaff felt free to laugh at my expense.
And Blake would still say, “Don’t be so petty. It’s just á joke.”
Yes, they got used to joking
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09:00
Yes, they got used to joking. And I got used to being the joke.
But I knew the reason they didn’t respect me was because Blake didn’t respect me. They were just tryi- ng to please him.
