I sacrificed my pride to help her chase her dreams, only to be publicly denounced by her.

Last time, I spent every dime on her lessons instead of my treatment.

This time, I'm not losing myself for her.

2

I brushed off the dance teacher's payment request and reassessed our home.

It was a modest three-bedroom flat, yet only two were in use.

I had transformed the largest bedroom into a dance studio for Caitlyn's practice sessions.

The remaining rooms were occupied by my mother-in-law Dorothy and Caitlyn.

My husband, Mark Thompson, claimed to be on constant business trips, but I knew he was shacking up with his mistress just next community.

I only discovered Mark's infidelity when his pregnant mistress came knocking. He had betrayed our marriage long before, turning me into the town's punchline.

I demanded everything in the divorce, insisting Mark walk away empty-handed. But Caitlyn's lies in court cost me my share of the assets.

Caitlyn had the nerve to claim I was the first to stray.

Mark had poisoned her mind, convincing her I had a fling that went sour. Gradually, she believed I was projecting my frustrations onto her.

I held my tongue against her accusations.

I thought she was just naive, too young to see the whole picture. I believed she'd eventually understand my sacrifices.

But in her view, I was the culprit behind our family's downfall.

I knew staying with Mark would ruin her, so I chose to leave with nothing if it meant saving her.

Yet, she saw my actions as driven by jealousy of the affection Mark showed her, thinking I was out to torment them both.

Even a simple takeout meal at Mark's felt more genuine to her than the carefully balanced meals I prepared.

Reflecting on the slander I endured, my life seemed like a cruel joke.

Thankfully, I've been given another chance to do things right.

This time around, I'm reclaiming the dance career I once abandoned.

Instead of making Caitlyn a star, I'll be the one to shine.

I reached out to the top orthopedic specialists, preparing for the surgery on my foot.

Previously, when I rushed home to find Caitlyn unconscious in our apartment filled with gas, it was Dorothy who had "accidentally" forgotten to turn off the stove, hoping to end Caitlyn's life.

Desperate to save her, I ignored my injuries and rushed her to the hospital.