"Mom, Dad, I'm divorcing Ava. Dad, please take back all the connections and resources you introduced to her company. No point in helping an outsider."
My dad looked surprised.
My mom reached over to feel my forehead.
"Are you feeling okay, son?"
I took Mom's hand off my head and patted it to comfort her.
"Mom, you don't need to clean up Ava's mess anymore. Please send me all the evidence of her dabbling in those shady spiritual practices. I might need it for the divorce."
My parents exchanged glances. My mom even pinched herself.
"Ouch, that hurt! I'm not dreaming?"
"Mom, what are you doing? Why are you pinching yourself?"
Dad patted my shoulder with satisfaction:
"Son, you've finally woken up. Ava has no morals. She's never been a suitable wife."
Tears of joy filled my mom's eyes.
"All these years, Ava must've put some spell on you. No matter how awful she was, you were always hopelessly devoted to her. Nothing we said made a difference. Now you're finally seeing the truth!"
Watching the tears stream down my mother's face, my own eyes welled up.
Ava wasn't wrong — I used to be nothing but a hopeless fool, a lapdog beyond redemption.