"She's just a client," Connor frowned.
"What kind of client needs you to nickname her "Little Missy"? What kind of client needs gifts from you on Valentine's Day and Fourth of July?" His answer made me feel he thought I was an idiot.
"You know my job requires special means to secure important clients." Connor stared at me, thinking this explanation would make him seem truthful.
The Connor I thought I knew was just an illusion I had created.
"I came back today to tell you that since we're already divorced, it's best to sort out the remaining matters." At this moment, Connor couldn't hold back his true intentions any longer.
"What remaining matters?" I confused.
"I'll compensate you. So ..." his eyes suddenly turned cold, "I hope you can move out as soon as possible."
The worst outcome I had anticipated finally happened. I had read about such things in the news, but I never thought it would happen to me.
I felt as disgusted as if I had swallowed a bug, but I had no one to talk to about it. I stumbled through work in a daze and drowned my sorrows in alcohol after hours. While I was wallowing in sadness, another event compounded my misery.