Although I had heard multiple sides of the same story, since it was all second-hand information, it was difficult to separate fact from fiction when it came down to the events of the night Amanda served my Father with Divorce papers.
At the time, Brenden and I were at my Aunt’s skating rink, and from there, everything unfolded without me being present. I have to mention this because, even if I weren’t conscious as a six-year-old in the origin timeline, I would still be able to recollect everything that happened thanks to my perfect memory.
In fact, I had done so multiple times throughout my life, but mainly for little things such as reminiscing in a wave of nostalgia during the hard times.
But one of the first steps in my plot against Amanda was being present and aware during all of those small moments of change, turning myself into a witness of all the deeds she did, everything from the Prescription theft and use to bouncing checks or even cheating on my Father; they were all things I had heard about multiple times over in the Origin Timeline, yet since it was always difficult to separate fact from fiction when various parties are involved, the best I could do was formulate a puzzle based on what I DID know.
Things were different this time around; however, as I had set in motion everything I needed to be present for this very moment,
Sitting in my playpen with Brenden, my head snapped toward the front door as Amanda entered my perception and began fumbling with her keys to unlock the door.
I wasn’t the only one who heard it either; in the kitchen, my Father had finished setting the table, perfectly creating a romantic environment for a candlelight dinner.
This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.
Taking off his apron, he moved around, making sure the mood had been set before straightening his button-up shirt and turning on some Barry Manilow music. He scooped up some heart-shaped chocolate with a bouquet of flowers and dashed over to the hallway that led to the front door.
’Dad….sigh, seeing him put in so much work is somehow worse than hearing his side of things.’ I thought while vaulting over the walls of my playpen and posting up on the armrest of the couch.
’Here we go, show us all your dark side, Amanda…’ Right as I had that thought, the bolt lock unlatched, followed by the one on the doorknob, and then the front door swung open as if it were any other normal evening.
"Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. Did you get the roses I sent earlier today?" Wearing a happy expression and appearing almost like a golden retriever, my Father stepped forward the instant the door opened.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t about to get the reception he’d expected; walking into the house in her suit with a pencil skirt, carrying along a vanilla folder, Amanda calmly strode into the hallway…and completely ignored my Father, walking past him as if he didn’t exist.
Standing there frozen with the flowers in chocolate in hand, I could hear the thoughts of confusion rattling around my dad’s mind, as he couldn’t fathom what he had done to make her act like this.
Meanwhile, Amanda casually walked over to the kitchen table and blew out the candles before beginning to pick up the carefully placed silverware to put them away.
"Amanda… what’s wrong? What are you doing?" It took him a second, but by the time my Father had collected himself enough to react, he had come running into the kitchen and questioned the woman’s actions.
"I am not dealing with this, Lawrence," Amanda said in a steely voice while continuing to clean up all my Father’s hard work.
"And as for the flowers, I gave them away to a co-worker."
From where I sat on the couch armrest, I could see the hostility in her body language. She wasn’t being confrontational, but definitely wasn’t acting passive.
"What? Why would you do that? Those were a Valentine’s gift…" As he spoke, my Father began trembling, half with regret and half with anger. While he couldn’t be said to be good with his money, that didn’t mean he had a habit of giving it away, so for Amanda to casually get rid of almost a hundred dollars worth of roses was practically a cardinal sin to my Father.
"Because I don’t want them; I don’t want or need anything if it comes from you," Turning around with swiftness uncharacteristic of the woman, Amanda Snapped before picking up the folder she had placed on the kitchen counter and hurling it at my Father.
Upon impact with my Father’s chest, dozens of papers flew out from the folder, scattering across the kitchen floor and stunning my Father to such an extent that his brain wasn’t able to register what just happened.
"We are getting divorced, and you have no say in the matter. I have already hired a lawyer who is not only expensive but known for taking husbands for everything they are worth: the kids, the house, they will all be mine, and you will have no say in the matter." Amanda spoke in an icy tone filled with malice and venom.
"Divorce…."
"That’s right, now pick up all the papers, sign them, and get the fuck out of my house, don’t even bother packing a bag, as everything here will belong to me anyway." Placing her hands on her hips, the woman tried to appear as intimidating as possible, but since she was so short, it wasn’t remotely close to being that; if anything, it made her look stupid in my eyes.
"Amanda, please, we can talk about this. There is no need to go to such extremes; we can try couples therapy or something…" In contrast to Amanda’s resolved and unwavering tone, my Father’s words came out like those of a broken man on the precipice of losing everything he held dear.
"There is nothing to talk about; I do not love you, I have never loved you; all you were to me was a means of escaping the hell of a life I had before you. You had money, good looks, a house, everything I ever wanted, and I have put up with your stupidity and nonsense for long enough. Now sign the papers and GET OUT!" She screamed, only to be interrupted by a faint cough and me strolling into the kitchen.
"From Zugzwang to Checkmate."