Chapter 5: Everything I've denied myself

Catherine

I spent the next two days cocooned in the warmth of my mother’s small apartment, basking in the simple, forgotten luxury of being seen and appreciated. There were no early alarms, no rushing to scrub counters before an ungrateful husband walked through the door, and no frantic balancing of ledgers in the dark.

When I finally switched my phone back on late Saturday afternoon to stream a movie for Ethan and Mara, the screen violently lit up. Dozens of missed calls and text notifications from Mason flooded the display.

Mason: Is this your grand finale, Catherine? Six years of playing the victim just to pull a number like that out of thin air?

Mason: You're not getting a cent.

Mason: Stop embarrassing yourself and come back home.

I smiled and immediately scrolled down to my chats with Sarah.

She was the closest person I could call a friend.

A sharp uncompromising family lawyer.

We were very close during my university days, but with work and marriage overwhelming me, we rarely kept in touch.

I'd reached out to her on Thursday evening, sending all the documents to her.

She had everything prepared the next day.

"The papers are ready," she'd told me. "The moment you tell me he refuses to pay, I'll file."

I simply sent a text to her.

Catherine: Proceed.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Sarah: "Done, Catie."

It wasn't even up to an hour before my phone pinged again.

This time with a transaction receipt from my mobile banking app.

Transfer Successful: $5,000,000.00.

A sharp, breathless laugh escaped my lips. He actually paid it. The almighty, untouchable CEO of L&T Group had blinked first.

I stared at the balance on my screen, tears stinging my eyes.

Five million dollars.

It wasn't the value of my pain—nothing could ever pay for that—but it was my wage for six years of absolute service.

I immediately transferred two million dollars straight into my mother’s checking account.

Not even five minutes passed before the bedroom door flew open. Mom marched in, clutching her phone against her chest, her eyes wide with absolute panic.

"Catie, what on earth is this?" she gasped, her voice trembling as she showed me the screen. "Two million dollars? Where did you get this kind of money? Tell me you didn't do something reckless."

I smiled, leaning back against the pillows. "Calm down, Mom. It’s my money. After all, I've been working all these years. I just finally decided to draw out my savings instead of hoarding it."

Mom closed the distance between us and immediately smacked the top of my head.

"Ouch! Mom!" I cried, rubbing the sore spot.

"What do you mean, 'draw out your savings'?" she scolded, though her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "What if something happens in the future? How can you just throw it all around like this? You have the twins to think about!"

"Mom," I said softly, reaching out to catch her worn, calloused hand and squeezing it gently. "I promise you, I still have plenty left. I just wanted us to breathe for once. To actually enjoy life a little bit."

It took another twenty minutes of gentle coaxing, but the rigid, protective posture she had held for a lifetime finally began to melt. She let out a long, shaky sigh, a small, genuine smile breaking across her face as she murmured something about finally buying a proper dishwasher and renovating the old, leaking kitchen counters.

We spent the rest of the day doing things I'd denied myself for six years.

We ate in a restaurant I'd only ever walked past, where every dish was meticulously plated. But the real luxury wasn't the flavor—it was the absolute freedom of ordering whatever I wanted without calculating a 50/50 split in my head.

After dinner, we went on a whirlwind shopping spree.

"Catie, no, these are far too expensive," mom whispered frantically, checking a price tag. "I have absolutely no need for designer clothes."

"Just try it on for me," I insisted, pushing her toward the fitting room.

When she stepped out, wearing a beautiful navy blue gown, she couldn't stop looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She turned around slowly, a radiant, almost girlish grin on her face as she posed like a runway model. I bought it instantly, along with exquisite fine jewelry that caught the boutique's soft lighting.

I filled shopping bags with toys for the twins and groceries to stock up the fridge.

Then, for the first time in years, I walked into a salon without worrying about the price list.

While the twins happily shared a massive bowl of gourmet ice cream in the waiting area, Mom and I were treated to deep-tissue body massages and intensive spa treatments. Mom got a beautiful new perm, her silver-streaked hair bouncing with fresh life, while I had my long, dull hair styled into soft, elegant waves.

By the time we got back to the apartment, we were thoroughly exhausted, but my heart felt fuller than it had in a decade.

Mom kept turning to the hallway mirror, admiring her new hairstyle and taking photos to proudly text to her friends.

Nearly a million dollars disappeared that day, but it was worth every single cent.

My phone vibrated against the coffee table. It was Mason again.

Mason: Fine. Here's your money. Now stop playing these stupid games.

I didn't even bother to unlock the screen. I calmly slid the toggle to 'Do Not Disturb' and tossed the device deep into my purse. How he survived the rest of the weekend in that massive, empty estate was entirely his problem. I had endured six years of his cold, transactional isolation. He could survive a few days of his own medicine.

Sunday morning arrived with the scent of fresh rain and old coffee. I was sitting at the kitchen table, watching the kids color in their new books, when a sudden, violent noise shattered the quiet.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The heavy wood of the front door rattled on its hinges.

Ethan and Mara flinched, looking up from their papers with wide, startled eyes.

Mom stirred in the adjacent bedroom, her voice muffled with sleep. "Catie? Who on earth is that?"

"Stay in bed, Mom," I called out, my voice steady as I stood up. "I'll handle it."

I frowned, walking down the short hallway.

The neighbors knew better than to pound on a door like that.

The banging continued.

Once.

Twice.

Then again.

I opened the door.

Mason.

For a long moment...

neither of us spoke.

Then my gaze shifted past him.

Two unfamiliar men stood behind him.