After the divorce, I walked out with a cracked phone and my mother’s old necklace— my last chance to pay rent. The jeweler barely glanced at it… then his hands froze.
After the divorce, I walked out with two trash bags of clothes, a cracked phone, and my mother’s old necklace. That was it. Brandon kept the house. The car. The furniture we picked out together. The judge called it equitable. Brandon called it a win. For three weeks, I lived off diner tips and…
