After Divorcing Me My Husband Lost Everything

My husband is a tattoo artist, but he never allows me to visit his workplace. On Thanksgiving, my friend Willa, who delivers food, got hit by a car, so I helped her with her last delivery. When I opened the delivery app, I was shocked to see that the destination was my husband's workplace. Just as I reached the entrance, I overheard his familiar voice.

"If she weren't useful for covering the mortgage, I would have divorced her ages ago."

"It's laughable that she thinks I can't live without her."

Furious, I tossed the little packet into the trash, but rather than expressing remorse, my husband filed a complaint against me. When I suggested a divorce, he gladly accepted.

"The house and car are mine. Good luck surviving on your own!"

"Don't ever mention that we were married; I can't bear that shame. You're nothing to me now!"

Little did he know, he wasn't just losing me, but any connection to my family's billion-dollar empire.

---

"Sorry, babe, a customer just walked in. I can't spend tonight with you," Callahan Ryan's voice sounded regretful over the phone, carefully trying to gauge my reaction.

I checked the delivery platform app. The orders were flooding in today; a night of work could bring in five or six hundred dollars. Just the other day, Callahan mentioned wanting the latest smartphone, but the price had held him back. Working tonight, I could buy it for him as a surprise gift.

"It's fine. We can celebrate Valentine's Day anytime. As long as I’m with you, every day is Valentine's Day," I murmured into the biting wind, trying to reassure him.

"Yeah..." Callahan responded, sounding a bit raspy. If I listened closely, I could make out heavy breathing and the sound of splashing water.

"Honey, are you okay? I think I hear water on your end?" I worried about the recent chill and the possibility of him catching a cold. Before I could finish, Callahan hastily explained, sounding flustered.

"Oh, no, nothing. Just disinfecting for a client. Gotta go, bye!"

Before I could respond, he hung up abruptly.

Just then, Willa called, "Hey, Alejandra, I've been hit by a car. I have a delivery that's almost due; can you cover for me?"

Willa had been guiding me since I started, showing me the ropes on how to be efficient. During lunch rushes, she’d even grab an extra meal for me. So when she asked for help, I agreed without hesitation.

"Send it over to me, then."

When I received the order, I realized it was for two packs of condoms. As the clerk packed them up, we exchanged knowing glances with a few fellow couriers.

After picking up the package, I hurried out and hopped onto my bike, but when I saw the delivery address, I froze. I refreshed the page multiple times, disbelieving, but it kept showing Callahan's workplace with his name and contact.

I remained stunned until the honking of a frustrated driver behind