The carefully crafted, devoted-lover image Chris had displayed at his grand wedding would crumble on the spot.
Online harassment would be nothing compared to the fallout he truly feared:
Eldridge Tech Corporation’s stock price is plummeting.
He had clawed his way out of poverty with enormous difficulty. Of course, he did not want to fall back down and never climb out again.
But knowing all of this did not make the sting any less sharp.
My heart felt as if it were being sliced open, layer by layer, with a kitchen knife dipped in lemon juice.
For ten years, I had given Chris everything, heart, soul, and body.
To save more money for him, I wore the same clothes for a decade.
I woke before dawn and slept past midnight, surviving on five hours of rest a day.
At my lowest, I collapsed in the rice fields and vomited blood.
Even when the doctor warned I would die if I kept pushing myself, I never once told Chris I was tired.
I sincerely believed that eventually, all my sacrifices would be rewarded. I imagined him standing before me at a special ceremony, placing a wedding ring on my finger, and gazing at me with steadfast devotion.
But I had forgotten something essential:
Love’s ending is often simply that. An ending.
My throat burned as if it had been soaked in acid, and even breathing hurt.
I forced my trembling hands to steady and said coldly, “If anyone asks, just say I am your housekeeper.”
Chris stared at me in shock.
Even Melissa looked frozen in place.
Only Tucker burst into delighted laughter, utterly unaware of the tension in the room.
“Yay! Then we can use the money saved on a housekeeper to buy lots of toys! I want the new drifting go-kart! And the realistic sniper rifle! And—”
“Tucker, stop talking nonsense!” Chris snapped, though disbelief still lingered in his eyes.
Then, he turned back to me and asked, “Nadine, you really do not mind?”
I looked at Matty sleeping on the bed, guilt squeezing painfully in my chest. His toys during his childhood had been nothing but mud and pebbles along the roadside.
The toys Tucker casually listed were ones Matty probably did not even know existed.
“I don’t mind,” I said, swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat.
Then, more evenly, I added, “You said the school is going to check the deed and the household records to make sure both kids can enroll, right? Chris… let’s just get a divorce. You can go ahead and marry Melissa.”