"Stella’s birthday was ruined because of your commotion. You should take responsibility, right?"
"Besides, I never asked your mother to save me, so don’t try to guilt-trip me with morality."
I trembled with rage. Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest cup and hurled it at him.
Luther dodged to the side and the cup shattered against the wall, pieces scattering across the floor.
"You are such a shrew!" He looked at me with pure disgust. "I can’t stay in this house anymore."
With that, he walked to the fridge, pulled out a box of dumplings and left without looking back.
My heart tightened as I watched him hold the last box of cake my mother had made for me.
"You can’t take it! This is all I have left from my mother!" I reached out, desperate to stop him.
Before that, Luther kicked me hard in the stomach, his voice venomous.
"You’re making a big deal over a cake? It’s your mother’s blessing that Stella even wants to eat something she made!"
The force of the kick sent me crashing to the ground and my head slammed into the corner of the table. Blood began to drip from my forehead, staining the floor beneath me.
As I saw my blood mix with the memories of my mother’s body being torn apart by the wild dog, I felt something inside me snap.
I screamed, my voice raw and fury. "Luther, you're not human! You're a monster!"
"I want a divorce! I can’t stay with you anymore!"
"Fine! I’ll sign it right now!" Luther’s tone was dismissive, almost bored.
He quickly pulled out two sheets of paper, scribbled his name and cruelly pressed his fingerprints into the blood pooling on the floor.
He sneered at me, his words dripping with scorn. "Priscilla, if you have the guts, go ahead and draft the divorce papers."
"You’re nothing. Pregnant with someone else’s child. Who would want you if you leave me?"
With that, he slammed the door and walked out without a second thought.
Luther did not return for days.
I did not care. I dragged my exhausted body and began packing.
It felt oddly freeing when he was not here and I no longer had to endure his indifference and cruelty.
It was not until the early hours of the morning, just before I left, that he came back, holding a crumpled bag in his hands.
Seeing the large suitcases by the door, he looked at me in surprise. "Where are you going?"
I answered calmly, without a hint of emotion. "Back to my hometown."