“Divorce is between you and me,” I leaned back in the chair, staring at her misplaced confidence. “Since when do outsiders get a vote?”
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse, but she stayed defiant:
“Don’t be childish! The IPO is around the corner. If we divorce now, the stock price and partnerships will collapse. Can you handle that responsibility?”
“Responsibility?” I suddenly stood, pressing my temple with my thumb.
My body still ached from the surgery, but the absurdity of this conversation hurt even more.
“Who begged me to authorize the patent? Who cheated with another man while I was overseas recovering? And now you lecture me about responsibility?”
My words caught her off guard. She faltered, but quickly glared back at me, raising her voice:
“Even if we divorce, don’t you dare think of taking the patent! That’s the blood and sweat of the entire company!”
“My team developed that patent. Your company is only in partnership,” I tossed the authorization papers on the table in front of her.
“Don’t use ‘blood and sweat’ as moral blackmail. You know perfectly well whose work it is.”