After ten years of marriage, I want everything to be split fairly… even now, it still matters. Ten years is not a small thing.

He blinked, clearly expecting resistance. “Okay?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Let us divide everything.”

For the first time that evening, hesitation crossed his face.

“You are serious?” he asked.

“Completely serious,” I answered. “We divide the house. We divide the investments. We divide the brokerage accounts. We divide the company you founded when I signed as guarantor.”

A flicker of something close to fear appeared in his expression.

Because what he forgot was simple.

For ten years, I handled every document.

Every transfer.
Every contract.
Every signature.

And there was something he signed years ago when he still referred to me as his smartest decision.

That night, after he fell asleep peacefully, I walked into the study and opened the small fireproof safe behind the bookshelf. Inside was a blue folder I had not touched in years.

I sat at the desk and reread Clause Ten.

Then I smiled for the first time in months.

The next morning, I prepared breakfast exactly as usual. Unsweetened coffee. Lightly toasted sourdough. Fresh orange juice. Routine lingers even when affection fades.

“We should formalize the fifty fifty split,” Russell said confidently.

“Absolutely,” I replied calmly.