For the first time in years, I felt something close to freedom.
No sooner had I ended the call than my phone started ringing.
Mark.
Again.
And again.
Then the messages came flooding in.
“Why can’t I access our accounts?”
“What did you do?”
“This isn’t funny, Emily.”
“We need that money NOW. Fix this.”
I typed one final sentence and sent it without hesitation:
“I’m done being your wallet.”
Just five minutes later, my attorney sent me copies of everything he had filed. It was official. The wheels were already turning.
By the time Mark finally found me at the hospital, he was completely unhinged. His parents stormed in right behind him, their faces flushed with rage as they demanded explanations, shouting that I had “no right” to do what I’d done. But there, in the crowded waiting room with strangers watching, I stood and said clearly:
“You demanded money while my father was fighting for his life. You manipulated me. You controlled me. You drained me. And I’m done.”
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
