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"You've lived a wealthier life than most, but you're vain, greedy, and never satisfied. That's why you ended up like this."
"You use the ‘homemaker' card to play the victim, manipulating people's sympathy for your own gain."
"Mia, you're disgusting."
Her mask torn off, Mia turned pale.
I didn't want another word.
I turned to leave.
She screamed behind me,
"You ruined my life! I won't let you get away with this!"
Ridiculous.
I didn't ruin your life.
You did.
But you never know what desperate people will do.
That night,
Mia broke into my apartment with two large men.
They pinned me down and threw my things out.
"I'm calling the police!"
I fought, but it was useless.
Mia walked toward me, face dark.
"I told you—you ruined me. I'll make you suffer."
She filmed me with her phone.
Let the men touch me inappropriately.
Just as I was breaking down,
Liam rushed in.
He threw things at the men.
They pinned him down.
Fists hit his face.
His handsome features swelled instantly.
Blood trickled from his mouth.
I grabbed the chance to call the police.
Mia and the men fled.
I took Liam to the hospital.
Luckily, they were cowards.
They ran as soon as I called.
Liam wasn't badly hurt.
We didn't leave until noon the next day.
I'd calmed down.
He walked me home.
Silent the whole way.
I hadn't looked at him closely.
In just a few days, he'd changed completely.
He wore a cap, stubbled, exhausted.
Eyes bloodshot.
I cooked, made him some porridge.
He hesitated.
"I'm sorry, Chloe."
I ignored him and ate.
"I didn't make enough for you.
Your things are untouched. Have some porridge, then pack."
Liam had a sensitive stomach, so I never cooked spicy food.
But before him, I loved spicy food.
Now free, I could be myself.
I ate, fanning my mouth from the heat.
He brought me water.
"Careful."
His voice was still gentle.
As a husband, he was decent.
We had good times.
He put up with my moods, watched horror movies with me at midnight.
He dressed as a bear for my birthday, gave me little surprises.
Without Mia, I might've lived in my delusion forever.
Later, I learned he'd done all those things with Mia too.
But Mia never appreciated it.
He didn't mind—he was just playing a role.
With a new wife, he repeated the script.
But I loved him, I responded.
Yet he didn't need love.
So nothing I did mattered.
"I'm sorry. I was wrong. Let's not divorce."
He held my hand, murmuring.
"What were you wrong about?"
I tilted my head.
In every argument, for small things, he'd apologize.
But an apology didn't mean he thought he was wrong.
He just didn't want to argue.
He thought women were irrational.
Just give in.
"I shouldn't have done the show with Mia, shouldn't have ignored you when angry, shouldn't have hidden our marriage…"
"Stop."
I cut him off.
Same old lines.
Listing the arguments as apologies.
"What more do you want?"
He dropped the act.
"I tried to take care of everyone."
"I worked hard to provide for you. I didn't want you to work."
"I worried about Mia having no income—I gave her opportunities, shares."
"Why am I still the one apologizing?"
"You and Mia really are the same."
I took another bite.
"You didn't want me working because you were afraid I'd outshine you."
"You did the show because you wanted clout for a comeback."
"You hid our marriage because you feared losing fans."
Liam had no reply.
His mask torn, he trembled, red-eyed.
