Short Story

My husband and I are getting a divorce.
I was being nice in letting him keep the house since his girlfriend's lease was expiring.
I moved out and my lawyer called the house, one, twice, three, sometimes four times a day. Certified mail was even sent on more than one occasion. I even tried. Each time, we kept getting his girlfriend. Now, according to the law, only the person who is listed are we allowed to discuss this legal matter with. We told her the urgency of him contacting one of us.
Days went into weeks into months. No call back from my husband.
Found out through the grapevine, they had been planning this extravagant wedding. So, we really put pressure on her that her soon to be husband had to contact one of us.
Again, no word.
I got all dolled up and looked my best. It was a wedding of course. I couldn't go in jeans and a worn t-shirt. I walked up to the church and I knew she would be busy, I hunted for him. His family who never liked me escorted me out. I strongly hinted that I needed to finish a legal matter. They said it could wait until after the wedding. They threatened to call the police. Hmm. Tough call. Since, he was committing a crime as well, this was a hard choice. I weighed my options.
I had two options.
Option 1 - I could have gotten dolled up for no reason and let them carry on with their wedding.
Option 2 - I could be determined. Since their marriage wouldn't mean a thing until he signed papers.
I chose the latter of the two. After all, I didn't want them to ruin their big deal over a technicality.
I snuck back in and took a seat. The place was so beautiful, any hillbilly would have tears in their eyes.
I sat back, quiet. No one really noticed I was there. Again, a very beautiful wedding. The Dollar Store would had been so proud in how their decorations were used.
The Priest asked, "Does anyone object..."
I raised my hand. "I do!"
Oh, yeah, I got a lot of glares. I stood up and walked toward the altar. I couldn't contain my smile. I really don't remember what the Priest had said. But, his lovely bride to be turned full around and came charging at me. Poor thing didn't make it two steps when she fell flat on her face. Poor thing, they should have had red somewhere in their decorations. She busted her nose wide open. Picking herself up, she ran down the aisle and I don't know where.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"I thought you would thank me?" I asked, condescending.
"What the fuck do you mean?"
"You're about to commit a crime."
"No, I'm not!"
"Well, since you are still my husband, LEGALLY, and it is a crime to have more than one wife," I explained.
His look said it all and it was worth it.
"Now," I said, handing the divorce papers over. "Here's where you sign," I said, pointing.
"What the last page?" he asked.
"My lawyers bill," I answered. "You'll see how many times we've been trying to reach you. By phone and mail."
"I didn't get anything!" he cried.
"No, but your soon to be bride did. She answered each one," I quoted.
"This couldn't have waited?" he hissed, signing.
"Now, when you say, 'I do', it'll be legal."
"You're a bitch!" his brother snorted.
"I may be. I would rather be a bitch than a liar," I said, calmly. After I made sure the papers were signed correctly, I held them up. "Thank you and all a good day."
Before completely leaving, I turned around. "You may resume. I have no further objections."
I walked out of the church proud of myself that I didn't let my 'now' ex-husband commit a crime. Now, how many ex-wives do you know that are that nice?

Moral of the story? Don't touch the handle of a frying pan that's been simmering.