My son is a “child genius.” My overconfident husband loves to brag, always boasting that our son inherited his brilliant genes. One day at dinner, my son suddenly started speaking German to his dad. He said, “Mom ist zu dumm, ich hasse sie” (Mom is too dumb, I hate her). My husband casually replied, “Ihre einzige Funktion ist es, uns zu dienen, zum Glück haben Sie nicht ihre minderwertigen Gene geerbt” (Her only purpose is to serve us. Luckily, you didn’t inherit her inferior genes). I put down my utensils and watched as father and son exchanged sneaky glances and smiles. At that moment, I felt utterly exhausted. 01 I stood up with my bowl in hand, walked into the kitchen, washed the dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher. The sound of the dishwasher humming couldn’t drown out the conversation still going on between father and son at the dining table. I dried my hands and walked past them, heading to the bedroom. Neither of them bothered to spare me a glance. In the past, I would have cheerfully asked, “What are you guys talking about?” Even though I’d always be brushed off impatiently, I kept trying to join in. But now, I no longer felt the need. Whatever they talked about, discussed, or argued about—it was their business. Not mine. I pulled out my old suitcase from the back of the closet. It looked worn, but it was still sturdy. I didn’t have many clothes. Ever since Aaron was born, I stopped caring about how I looked. I started buying clothes online, cheap and disposable. Looking at what I had now, the only decent clothes were the ones I bought before we got married. 02 Just as I finished packing, Spencer walked in. He looked at the suitcase on the floor, his brow furrowing. “What are you doing with that old thing?” I didn’t respond. I just kept zipping up the suitcase. He shrugged, uninterested, grabbed his charging cable from the nightstand, and said, “Go clean the dining table. Aaron and I are going to play Monopoly later.” I said nothing, and he walked out of the room. The door clicked shut at the same time my suitcase zipper snapped into place. Those two sounds intertwined, and I felt a sudden clarity in my heart. I pulled out an old trench coat, the one I had bought the year I graduated and started working. I remembered my mom saying, “Now that you’re working, you need something decent to wear,” and she took me to a department store, where we spent $500 on that brand-name coat. When Spencer found out, he insisted I return it, grumbling that $500 could cover two months of our expenses. I refused. We had a big fight, and my mom ended up giving him $450 to calm him down. But after we got married, I never wore the coat again. Pregnancy had changed my body, and once Aaron was born, I was too busy taking care of him. The coat just stayed in the closet, gathering dust. 03 The suitcase wheels scraped across the hardwood floor, making a loud, dragging sound. Aaron, who was sitting on the couch watching TV, glanced at me, then quickly returned his attention to the screen. Spencer was sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand, a smug smile on his face. He heard the noise too and looked up at me, his brow furrowing tightly. “Where are you going?” I took a deep breath, not even able to respond before he continued. “I told you to clean the dining table! Aaron and I are going to play Monopoly!” I swallowed the words stuck in my throat, using all my strength not to slam the suitcase into his face. “Clean it yourself. I’m moving out.” Finally, Spencer looked at me properly. He sat up, eyebrows knitted as he watched me change my shoes. “What do you mean?” I stood up straight and looked at Aaron, still glued to the TV, rubbing his tired eyes. Aaron’s eyesight had been deteriorating, and I’d already scheduled an appointment for him next Saturday to see Dr. Grayson at Denver Eye Center. I pulled out my phone and sent Spencer the appointment details. “Don’t forget to take him to the eye doctor next Saturday,” I said, pulling my suitcase behind me as I walked out the door. 04 Spencer caught up to me as the elevator was still ascending. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” he muttered angrily, trying to grab my suitcase. I tightened my grip and dodged his hand. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Spencer. “Did you forget?” I looked at this balding man in front of me and couldn’t help but smirk. “If it weren’t for accidentally getting pregnant with Aaron, I was supposed to go to MIT on a scholarship.” Spencer’s eyes widened as if he’d finally remembered the time he and Aaron humiliated me, assuming I couldn’t understand German. He sighed, folding his arms across his chest, showing not a hint of remorse. “Oh, right. I forgot you spoke German. You’re not seriously mad about that, are you? “I’ll apologize, for me and Aaron. Does that work for you?” The elevator reached the seventh floor. As I watched the numbers climb on the display, I felt an unprecedented calm wash over me. “It’s not just about that,” I said, glancing back at him. “I’m done living like this. “Spencer, I want a divorce. Aaron stays with you.” The elevator doors opened to Spencer’s furious shouts. I stepped inside and quickly pressed the button to close the door. The last thing I saw was Spencer yelling for me to get out of his house before storming back inside. 05 I spent half the night at the airport, catching the first flight back to my parents’ house. When I told them I was getting a divorce, they stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, my dad shook his newspaper and asked, “Have you had breakfast yet?” I shook my head, tears spilling onto my jeans, leaving dark spots. My mom wiped my tears, smiling gently. “Let your dad make you some noodles, your favorite.” My dad had already put down his paper and was slowly shuffling into the kitchen. After breakfast, I pushed my suitcase into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Sleep came quickly, and as I drifted off, memories flooded my mind. While other babies were still babbling, Aaron had already memorized passages of American Classic Literature. At first, Spencer and I didn’t think much of it, assuming Aaron was just a smart kid. But when Aaron was three and in preschool, the teacher visited us just two weeks into the term, marveling at how he was a “child genius.” Apparently, Aaron had memorized the Code of Conduct for Young Americans in just ten minutes. Spencer was over the moon. After endless tests, he was convinced that Aaron was, indeed, a genius. And he—the self-proclaimed “genius father.” Spencer, who had never cared about raising Aaron, suddenly quit his job without even consulting me and used all our savings to support Aaron’s education. Aaron didn’t disappoint. By the age of five, he had mastered all elementary school subjects and was accepted into Aspen Ridge Prep Academy ahead of time. The media couldn’t get enough of our “American wunderkind.” The Crane family celebrated like royalty, even adding a special page for Aaron in the family tree records. But I knew deep down this wasn’t right. I worried that Aaron’s success wouldn’t last forever. He was only a little ahead of the others, and once the spotlight faded, he might fall harder than anyone else. 06 I was woken up by Janice Crane’s phone call. “Nina!” Janice always thought shouting over the phone made her more likely to be heard, so every call sounded like she was yelling into a megaphone. “You’re way too old to be playing divorce games! Aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you?” I rolled my eyes and muttered, “I’m not playing around, Janice. I’m serious about the divorce.” She let out a loud laugh, clearly not taking me seriously. “Do whatever you want. The moment you leave, my son will just hire a nanny. You’re useless anyway. Go on, and don’t come crawling back!” I hung up immediately. In their eyes, I had never been more than a glorified nanny. No, not even that—at least a nanny gets paid. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I took a few deep breaths before picking up my phone and dialing my high school friend, Gabriel Dawson. “It’s been ages, Nina,” Gabriel said when he answered, congratulating me right away. “I read that article about you. You’re officially the mother of a genius now, huh? Congrats!” I gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t tease me. It’s all just media hype. By the way, I heard you started your own law firm. Interested in taking on my divorce case?” Gabriel was stunned, asking several times, “A divorce? You?” I firmly replied, “Yes, I want a divorce.” After hanging up, I lay back on the bed, feeling a sense of relief for the first time in a long while. No more endless laundry, no more scrubbing floors, and no more catering to a pair of men who couldn’t care less about me. 07 Aaron used Spencer’s phone to call me, asking where his shirt was. I decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Aaron, do you know why I left?” He was cold. “No. Where’s my shirt?” I sighed. “I understand German, Aaron. I understood everything you and your dad said at the dinner table.” There was silence for a moment before Aaron responded. “You can speak German? Wo ist mein Hemd (Where’s my shirt)?” My chest felt tight. I couldn’t hold back my frustration any longer. “Aaron, don’t you feel even a little guilty for humiliating me like that?” His voice, still childishly high-pitched, sounded like ice shards. “In our house, only people with high intelligence get to speak. Your education isn’t good enough to earn any respect. Now, I’ll ask one more time—where’s my shirt?” I hung up. As expected, Aaron had no concept of manners. I had tried teaching him, reasoning with him, even pretending I’d punish him, but he just wasn’t interested in learning those values. Spencer had told Aaron that rules only bend for the talented. And Aaron believed it wholeheartedly. 08 After pulling myself together, I headed straight to Gabriel Dawson’s law firm. Gabriel had changed a lot—especially his waistline. He rubbed his nose awkwardly and laughed. “Long time no see, Nina. You haven’t changed at all.” I chuckled. “You’re still as smooth as ever.” We went over the divorce agreement, and Gabriel asked me repeatedly, “Are you sure you don’t want to fight for custody? And don’t you think you’re asking for too little?” “This is fine,” I said, taking a sip of water, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to get into a long, drawn-out battle with Spencer. This is something he’ll agree to.” Gabriel scratched his head, still confused. “Nina, are you sure you’re not rushing into this? You two don’t have any major marital issues, no financial problems, and sure, there’s some tension with his mother, but nothing that can’t be fixed. Plus, Aaron is… well, a genius.” “My marriage was a mistake from the start,” I replied with a soft smile, finally feeling the weight lift off my shoulders. “It just took me too long to realize it.” I should’ve seen it the moment Spencer secretly replaced my birth control pills and I ended up pregnant by accident. Instead, it took all these years—and raising our son—to finally understand. 09 When Spencer received the divorce papers, he couldn’t stay calm anymore. “Nina, have you lost your mind?” he yelled over the phone, furious. “In two days, it’s Aaron’s College Admissions Celebration! There are going to be media outlets and TV stations all over the place! Now you’re going to drop a divorce bomb? I still have my reputation to think about!” Aaron had been accepted into Aspen Ridge Prep Academy, and Spencer had gone all out, planning a huge gala, inviting the press and even some local officials. This celebration was his crown jewel. Ignoring his rant, I replied calmly, “Spencer, I’m divorcing you. You can hold your party. They’re separate things.” Spencer snapped, “I thought we agreed—you’re supposed to attend the party with us!” “Why would I do that?” I asked. He fell silent, so I continued, “To play the role of a lucky housewife with a simple college degree, who somehow gave birth to a ‘genius’?” Spencer gritted his teeth. “You’ve been snooping through my phone?” Honestly, stumbling upon his plan was pure coincidence—I wasn’t in the habit of checking his phone. But when I saw the draft of the “media plan,” it hit me hard. When I got pregnant during my grad school applications, I didn’t want the baby at first. But Spencer had cried, begged me to keep it, claiming his low sperm count meant this was a miracle—a blessing from above. I caved. So, with a degree in one hand and a marriage license in the other, I gave birth to Aaron that winter. When Aaron turned one, a drunken Spencer let it slip: he’d secretly switched out my birth control pills on purpose.
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