After my husband threw me out of the house after our divorce, I took the old bank card my father had left behind and used it at a branch in the U.S., sending the whole bank lobby into a stir as the staff hurriedly called the manager over, and the words “Look at the name on this account!” revealed a family secret I had never known.

Quacy walked quickly toward a corner of the lobby, somewhat secluded, near a large floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Peachtree Road. Zelica followed him like a robot.

“Quacy, explain this to me,” Zelica demanded. Her voice was barely audible.

“What is there to explain?” Quacy said coldly. “Is it not clear? You and I are done. Finished.”

“Just like that? After ten years? After I took care of your mother after her stroke last year? After building with you from ground zero?”

Quacy let out a cynical laugh.

“Building with me from ground zero? Don’t be ridiculous, Zelica. I am successful thanks to my hard work. You—” he sneered, “you’re just a burden. Especially after you spent so much time taking care of your mama in that country town. You forgot your duties as a wife.”

“My duties?”

“Yes. Look at you.”

He pointed at Zelica with disgust.

“Disheveled, unkempt. I am a major developer. I need a partner on my level, not a housewife like you.”