Part 3After my wife took a trip with her first love, I decided to get a divorce.

I chuckled to myself. My father-in-law, Walt Carter, sure had his ear to the ground—he even knew about the bonus I’d received from my latest project.

“So, when are you giving that money to my daughter?” Dolly, my mother-in-law, chimed in, her tone dripping with entitlement.

“You must have misunderstood,” I replied flatly. “I’m filing for divorce from Madeline.”

“Divorce?!” Dolly’s face twisted in shock.

“Your darling daughter announced on Facebook that the baby she’s carrying belongs to her high school sweetheart, Travis. Whoever the father is, let him handle the hospital bills and the Postpartum Care Center,” I said, my tone cold.

“You’re talking nonsense! That baby is yours!” Walt snapped, his voice rising in anger.

Dolly, of course, doubled down. “Even if the baby isn’t yours, so what? You’re the one who married Madeline. If you truly love her, you should accept everything about her!”

“And besides,” she added, crossing her arms, “that baby will take your last name anyway. So what exactly is your problem?”

Listening to their absurd arguments, I realized trying to reason with them wastes time.

I grabbed my car keys and left the house, ignoring their shouts as they trailed behind me.

When they caught up in the driveway, I sighed and told them what they wanted to hear: “I’m going to sort out the Postpartum Care Center now.”

That finally got them to back off.

“You’d better,” Dolly said smugly. “After all, Madeline’s been carrying this baby for nine months. You can’t drop the ball now.”

I didn’t bother responding and drove off. Once I was clear of the house, I called my former college classmate, Autumn Quinn, who now lived in Asheville, North Carolina.

When she picked up, her voice lit up with excitement. “Ethan! You finally agreed! We’ve been waiting for the perfect leader for this project, and you’re it. The salary and benefits package we can offer you is top-notch!”

Autumn had been trying to recruit me for months, but I’d always turned her down. I’d stayed because I thought Madeline and I were happy—and because she was pregnant.

But now, I had no reason to stay.

“Count me in,” I said decisively.

She paused, catching something in my tone. “Ethan, is everything okay? Do you need help with something?”

I chuckled softly. “No, nothing like that.”

She didn’t push, but her excitement returned as she promised to arrange an interview. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she added warmly.

“Thanks, Autumn.”

We met in college when I was a junior and she was a freshman. We belonged to the same college society, and over time, we became good friends.

After I got married, though, we drifted apart.

With the interview set up, I turned my attention to the next step: consulting a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement.

It was evening by the time everything was arranged, and I was ready to grab dinner when my phone rang again.

It was Madeline.

“Where the hell have you been?!” she demanded. “I’ve called you a dozen times, and you didn’t answer. I had to take a cab home, Ethan—a cab! Do you know how mad that makes me?”

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