Chapter 15 — Eighteen People, One Meal, One Divorce

“How long are you going to hide and stay at your mother's house like that?”

“I'm not hiding, I'm still here.”

“So what do you want, aren't you saying divorce? If you don't answer these past few days, do you intend to change your mind?”

“No, I'm waiting for you to give me the deal.”

He was silent for a few seconds and then said: "The agreement is not easy to write. You have to ask someone to look it over. The basic content is that the garage is all in your name, not counting common assets."

"Your salary after the wedding is all used for family expenses. We don't count it against you. Didn't you say you don't need anything, just get your salary card back?"

"Okay, give me the card back, I'll sign it and it's over."

“Okay, when will you give it?”

"On the seventh day, I'll take the day off. You'll come here and pack your things, I'll wait at home."

"I'll see the agreement first. If there are no problems, then go to the civil affairs department."

“You don't believe me?”

“Regardless of whether I believe it or not, I have the right to know what I am signing.”

He choked out a "okay," then said: "When the time comes, I'll send you a photo, don't act like that, otherwise I won't be polite." On the morning of the seventh day, my mother ironed my clothes: "Go properly, take back what belongs to you." I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes still a little swollen but much better, reminding myself that I wasn't begging, I was taking it back. The taxi stopped in front of that building, each window was like an eye, watching me come and then watching me go. Trieu Khai opened the door, the house was as messy as a warehouse, the table was full of cigarette butts and wine bottles, the sofa was littered with clothes, completely different from the house I used to carefully clean.

“Where is the agreement?” I asked directly.

“Hurry up,” he took a stack of papers from the drawer, “see for yourself.”

The terms are written quite neatly: pre-marital assets belong to each party, post-marital assets are "undivided", neither party is responsible. As for the salary card, it clearly states: "Party A voluntarily returns the post-marital income card to Party B, the balance has been used for common expenses, Party B has no opinion."

“Who wrote you?”

“My friend, doing business, understands these things.”

I took a photo and sent it to Lam Tinh. She called back immediately: "Don't sign, there is a problem with this agreement. First, the money on the card is not all family expenses, there is a part transferred to that investment company."

"The second sentence is to force you to give up your right to pursue it, tell him to fix it, and other terms can be negotiated."

I hung up: "This is not okay, it's not true." He frowned: "You still want to make plans with me, even if you have a little money, it's too much."

"So you show me the statement. You said it was used in the house, so I have to know where to use it."

"Buying food, electricity and water, buying gifts for my parents, it's all included. Do you think raising me is free?"

“You list it out, I don't mind calculating it.”

He slapped the table: "Are you planning to rip off your face? I tell you, I'm not easy to deal with. If you want a divorce, sign with me, otherwise go to court."

"Don't forget you've been here for two years. Who pays for the electricity and water? The things your parents brought in are also common property. I don't count them out of love. Don't force me."

His face was red, but I found that I was no longer afraid, the fear gradually receded, leaving only cold alertness.

“Trieu Khai, what does that company have to do with you?”

He paused: "Which company?"

"In your recent investment project, how many of your mother's relatives did you involve?"

His eyes flashed: “You heard who?”

“I don't need to tell you how, I just ask you, did you use their money to invest in it?”

“That's my business, it has nothing to do with you, don't think you are who you are.”

“Is the money in my salary card also invested by you?”

He pursed his lips and didn't speak, that silence was the answer.

“Do you know that company is suspected of illegally raising capital?” I stared at him, every word was cold.

"Whoever my mother's relatives give the money to, they give it to me, I get the commission, I'm the one who pulled them in."

“Stop scaring me, they have a proper license and are clearly legal.” he raised his voice, as if trying to overwhelm me.

“I'm just an elementary school teacher, so what do I understand?”

“So do you dare show me the contract?” I asked, not avoiding it at all.

"You don't have to rely on me to show you."

"You just said the money on the card is for family use, I have the right to confirm."

The air was so tense that it seemed like you could clearly hear each "ticking" of the clock hands. He laughed coldly: "Do you really think you're so smart, your best friend shows you these tricks?"

“I tell you, I did everything for this house, I don't want to spend my whole life crowded in this tiny apartment.”

"What if you drag your relatives to invest? It's not like they won't make a profit."