My lawyer.
"I'm ready."
We'd met months back when I started googling things like "mental load marriage" and "is this normal or am I losing it?" She'd drafted divorce papers "for whenever you're ready."
"I'm ready," I told her. "Can he be served at the party?"
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There was a pause. Then: "Yes. We can arrange that."
We set the time and details.
House looks amazing.
The next day, the cleaning crew came while Jason was at work. Three people cleaned the house from top to bottom, including corners I'd never even noticed.
Jason texted me once from work.
House looks amazing. You didn't have to go crazy lol.
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I wrote back: Told you I'd handle it.
"You look exhausted."
On the morning of the party, Maria and another caterer came with all the food and set everything up. Chafing dishes, serving spoons, labels, cake centered on the table.
Maria glanced at my cast.
"You sure you're okay?" she asked. "You look exhausted."
"I'm okay," I said. "Tonight is… important."
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"I knew you'd come through. You always do."
By the time the guests arrived, the house was spotless. Food looked like something from a magazine. Music playing, candles lit.
Jason strutted around like he'd spent days planning.
"See?" he said, putting an arm over my good shoulder. "I knew you'd come through. You always do."
I smiled and stepped away.
His coworkers came in, then his friends, then some family.
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"What happened to your arm?"
People kept asking, "What happened to your arm?" and "You still did all this?"
Before I could answer, Jason would laugh and say, "Yeah, she's tough. Insisted on doing it all anyway."
Then his mom, Linda, walked in.
She looked at my cast and immediately wrinkled her nose.
"What did you do now?" she asked.
"When I broke my wrist, I still had dinner on the table."
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"I slipped on the porch," I said. "On the ice. Broke my arm."
She sniffed. "Well, if I were you, I'd still cook myself. Broken arm or not. When I broke my wrist, I still had dinner on the table."
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice.
"You know," she said, "if you don't try harder, men tend to look elsewhere."
Then she straightened and gave Jason a smug little smile.
"You guys really went all out."
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I smiled back.
Because she had no idea.
About 30 minutes later, people were eating and drinking, talking about how good the food was.
"This is amazing," one of his coworkers said. "You guys really went all out."
Jason lifted his beer. "Yeah, we love hosting. She's really good at this stuff."
"Babe, the dip's low!"
Every few minutes, he'd shout across the room:
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