By the time I filed for divorce, Mark and I had been unhappy for years.
We barely spoke unless it involved the kids, bills, or something that needed fixing around the house. I was tired of feeling married and alone at the same time.
When we started dividing our belongings, Mark became unbelievably petty.
He wanted the large TV because he had bought it.
Then the expensive coffee maker.
Then the patio set.
Then even a set of beanbags the kids had used for years.
I stopped arguing.
If he wanted something badly enough, I let him take it.
But on the day he moved out, I found him at the front door with a screwdriver.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking the lock and handle,” he said. “I paid for them.”
For a moment, I honestly thought he was joking.
He wasn’t.
So I stepped aside.
He removed the entire lockset, packed it into a box, and left.
That afternoon, I called a locksmith and replaced everything.
Three days later, Mark phoned me sounding furious and embarrassed.
The lock he had taken didn’t fit the door at his new apartment.
Worse, he had already thrown away the old apartment hardware before realizing it.
Now his landlord was charging him for emergency replacement locks and damage to the door.
He wanted to know if I still had the original pieces.
“I thought they were yours,” I said calmly.
There was a long silence.
I didn’t laugh.
I didn’t need to.
For once, his determination to take absolutely everything had cost him far more than simply leaving it behind.
