My Wife Became So Addicted To Night Fishing That I Divorced HerChapter 1
My ever-faithful wife, Miranda Moon, had suddenly become obsessed with night fishing, returning home every morning with bags and buckets full of fish. In fact, she didn’t even have time to care for our daughter when she was sick and got hospitalized.
"The tide waits for no one, babe. Wait until I return with a full catch!"
Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I immediately filed for divorce the day she learned to prepare a whole fish feast from a Michelin chef to celebrate our daughter’s recovery.
Both my friends and family accused me of being too dramatic. Miranda responded by taking off her apron and slamming it in my face furiously.
"You’ve already eaten the fish, but you dare to act like this?"
"If you and your daughter didn’t love fish so much, would I have to go fishing at night just to feed the mosquitoes?"
However, I just brushed off the apron, pointed at the expensive necklace around her neck and smiled faintly.
"Well, you love fishing and you enjoy feeding the mosquitoes. Don’t blame both me and Olive. After we get divorced, you’re free to fish however you want!"
——
Miranda seemed to think of something. She raised her hand and casually scratched her necklace and then turned to coax our daughter.
"Olive, go get your mosquito repellent and apply it to Mom!"
My daughter got out of the room with her tiny legs. No longer putting on a facade, Miranda immediately threw a bowl of chowder directly in my face.
"Anthony, you’re fucking nuts! If it weren’t for our daughter being here, I would’ve thrown it harder just to wake you up!"
"So what if our daughter was in the hospital and I didn’t stay to watch her? Is that such a big deal? Is it worth using fish as a reason to divorce me?"
I wiped the chowder off my face. The fishy stench, mixed with the greasiness of the hot broth, stuck onto my skin like an indelible shame. Meanwhile, people were glaring at me. Yet, I didn’t give a fuck about it any longer.
Instead, I pulled the documents from my bag and slammed them on the table.
"I’ve prepared the divorce agreement. Sign it."
It was my mother who became the first to react. She bent down to pick up the agreement, taking a look at it. And then her face suddenly darkened.
"So you want Miranda to leave the house?!"