The sound of a glass smashing on the floor echoed through the room. It felt like my heart was shattering too.

I took a deep breath and mustered the courage to calmly say, "Ricky, let's get a divorce."

His drunken stupor seemed to evaporate as he shot up and yelled, "What did you just say?! Divorce?! Are you nuts?!"

"All because Miley said your scar was gross?!"

"What's wrong with that? It's really gross!"

That made me grab a plate and throw it at him.

"Ricky, this scar—this gross scar—is what I got saving your life! And now you say something so heartless?!"

Seeing me fight back, his face darkened, and he grabbed me by the collar, his voice cold and threatening.

"I married you, didn't I?! What more do you want from me, huh?!"

"Heartless? If I'm heartless, your parents wouldn't be able to sell you! Do you really think you're worth 70,000 bucks?!"

I struggled, shouting back, "So I'm not worth 70,000 bucks, huh? If I hadn't saved you back then, you wouldn't even be alive to pay anything!"

When he refused to let go, desperation took over, and I slapped him hard across the face.

"You dare hit me?" he roared. "How dare you hit me!"

His retaliation came swift and brutal—a slap that left me dizzy, my cheek burning with pain.

"Ah!"

A startled gasp came from the master bedroom's doorway. I turned to see Miley, standing there.

"I-I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice trembling as she approached with a frightened expression. "I-I didn't know you two were fighting."

Ricky let go right away, straightened his clothes, and turned to comfort Miley.

"Miley, are you alright? Did I scare you?"

Miley held his hand with both of hers, swinging it gently as she pouted. But her eyes darted to me, full of fake innocence.

"Ricky, please don't fight. Christina isn't wrong. I drank too much and said something stupid. It's my fault she's upset. She doesn't like me, and that's fair."

She looked at me, lowering her head like she was genuinely admitting her mistake.

"I'm sorry, Christina. Please don't be mad at Ricky because of me."

But her eyes said something else entirely—cold and defiant. Even a fool could see she wasn't sincere.

Ricky, of course, didn't notice.

"Miley, this has nothing to do with you. She's just being dramatic. Go lie down if you're dizzy."

And with that, he led her into our bedroom—our bed—to rest.

I followed them in, grabbed my suitcase, and started packing.