My Husband Asked For A Divorce On His Retirement Day—So I Revealed My 30-Year Secret Chapter 04
A flicker of awkwardness crossed Amanda’s face, but she recovered with a quick smile.
“I just wanted to make it clear that Griffin and I aren’t doing this on impulse. At our age, finding someone you truly connect with is a rare thing. I’m not here to take anything from anyone. I just want to spend the rest of my life with him, living the way he’s always wanted.”
Griffin stood beside her, his expression so tender he looked like a different person.
In more than thirty years of marriage, he had rarely looked at me that way.
Amanda took a travel brochure from her purse and set it on the coffee table.
“Thirteen countries in Europe. The river cruise is supposed to be breathtaking. Griffin said that as soon as the house is settled, we’ll be on our way.”
I looked at her. “You came all the way here just to tell me that?”
She put on a wounded expression.
“Donatella, please don’t misunderstand. I’m truly not here to take anything. I just feel so sorry for Griffin. He’s worked himself to the bone his whole life—killing himself at the office, then coming home and having to hold everything in.”
Griffin immediately picked up her thread.
“Donatella, Amanda means well. She understands me better than you ever did.” As he spoke, he rested a hand on her shoulder.
“She’s shown me that you can start over, even at sixty.”
I let out a short, dry laugh. “Start over by selling my house?”
Griffin frowned. “What do you mean, *your* house? We’ve lived here for decades. This is our home.”
Amanda tugged lightly at his sleeve. “Griffin, don’t argue with Donatella. She’s hurting right now. It’s only natural.”
The more she played the peacemaker, the more protective Griffin became.
“You’re too kind.” He turned back to me, his face hardening.
“Donatella, stop assuming the worst of people. Amanda isn’t after money. She cares about *me*.”
I almost laughed out loud.
Lauren, sitting nearby, chimed in softly, “Mom, Amanda has a point. At least Dad will have someone to look after him. That should make things easier for you, too.”
Michael nodded. “Sell the house, and the rest will fall into place.”
Only Leo, clutching his Lego set, was still shouting, “Sell the house! Go on a cruise!”
The room was buzzing with their plans. And I, the woman who had been Griffin’s wife for thirty-four years, might as well have been a piece of old furniture slated for the curb.
I set down my teacup. “Fine.”
The room went silent.
Griffin stared at me. “You agree?”
“When the thirty days are up, we’ll settle everything at the signing.”
A flicker of triumph lit Amanda’s eyes. She thought she had already won.
That night, I called Jessica. “Get the team and the documents ready.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I looked at the glossy travel brochure Amanda had deliberately left on the coffee table.
“I’m sure.”
Thirty days later, we met at a lawyer’s office to finalize the divorce.
Griffin wore a new suit, with Amanda on his arm. Michael and Lauren came, too, as if to make sure I didn’t back out at the last second.
Once the initial paperwork was done, the lawyer passed the final documents across the table.
Griffin urged me, “Hurry up and sign. We can’t have this delaying our trip to Europe next week.”
I signed my name and set the pen down. Then I looked at them and smiled.
“Now that everything’s signed,” I said, “there’s something I’ve been keeping from you for thirty years.”