“Olivia, stop acting. Admit you used your dad as a tool—it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone already knows what kind of woman you are.”
“Let me handle this corpse. You don’t need to worry about the funeral.”
Onlookers immediately praised Richard for being compassionate and loyal, despising me even more.
“Her father’s death is just karma!”
“With a daughter like her, no wonder the family is cursed!”
“Only Richard would still stay married to her. Any other man would’ve divorced her long ago!”
Richard waved off the crowd and called the Funeral Home.
He even arranged for an embalmer to restore George’s appearance.
He had killed his own father—so it was only fitting he handle the funeral.
And it was only right he see with his own eyes whose charred body this really was.
The funeral staff arrived quickly.
Richard told me to send over my father-in-law’s photo so they could restore the features as quickly as possible.
I didn’t hesitate and sent George’s photo straight to the Funeral Home.
As the staff were lifting the body onto the vehicle, a piece of metal clinked to the floor.
Following the sound, Richard’s eyes went wide with rage.
“Olivia! Have you no shame? How dare you steal my dad’s medal?”
He snatched up the Military Medal, veins bulging at his temples.
I ignored him, took the medal back, and handed it to the funeral staff, instructing them to pin it to George’s chest once his appearance was restored.
Furious, Richard slapped me across the face with his injured hand.
“Bitch! My dad treated you well, and you steal his most precious thing to give to your short-lived old man?”
“Who do you think your dad is, that he deserves to wear this?”
My cheeks burned hot and swelled; my speech came out slurred.
“The man who died is your dad. Why wouldn’t he deserve it?”
Richard didn’t—or wouldn’t—understand.
“Bullshit! Just because I call him ‘Dad’ doesn’t put him on the same level as my father!”
He wrested the medal away and, still seething, had Legal draw up divorce papers on the spot.
“Olivia, sign it! I don’t want anything more to do with a woman like you.”
“And don’t think you can run crying to my father—I’ll have him sent overseas so you can’t bother him!”
The sting on my face was nothing next to the pain in my chest.
He wanted me to walk away with nothing.
I refused. He cheated first, and he betrayed all the support my family had given him—why should I leave penniless?