Hi, I’m a mother who gave birth just three months ago. My husband brought his mistress home and coldly asked me for a divorce. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I signed the papers in silence, and we divided our assets. Months later, when they saw me again, everyone’s jaws dropped in shock.

My daughter Hazel’s cry shattered the suffocating silence of the house. At just three months old, her cry was still so tender, but to me, in that moment, it sounded like an alarm—heralding the storm that was about to break over my life.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I gently patted my baby’s back as my own heart constricted. Downstairs, my husband of the last seven years, Ethan, was sitting with another woman. Ironically, that woman was my direct subordinate at the company, Jenna.

I walked down the stairs silently, holding my daughter in my arms. My heart was pounding in my chest. Ethan and Jenna were sitting on the cream-colored sofa that I had picked out myself—a sofa that had witnessed countless happy moments for our family. Now it had become the stage from which my marriage was being judged.

Ethan showed a brief flash of surprise when he saw me, but he quickly regained a cold, impassive expression. Jenna, on the other hand, looked at me with a mixture of defiance and triumph in her eyes.

“Sit down.”

Ethan’s voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

“We need to talk.”

I didn’t sit. I remained standing in silence, cradling my daughter with one arm and adjusting her blanket with the other. Hazel’s cries subsided, and she began to drift off to sleep in my arms.

I looked at Ethan—the man I had loved for ten years, from our college days to building the family we had now. His face was the same, the familiar features I had gazed at countless times. But why did he seem like a complete stranger to me today?

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

My own voice was as serene as his, surprising me with my own composure.

“The baby just fell asleep, and I don’t want to wake her.”

Perhaps when pain reaches its absolute peak, you can no longer cry or scream.

Ethan cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze and looking away.

“I think we should end it here. I want a divorce.”

Those four words—I want a divorce—left his mouth with a stunning lightness, as gentle as a passing breeze, yet powerful enough to shatter my soul. Seven years of marriage, ten years of love. It was all ending with one simple sentence.

I looked at Jenna. Her head was bowed, her hands clasped on her knees, pretending to be a passive, innocent party in all of this. Ah, the poor innocent maiden caught in a forbidden love. What a ridiculous act she was putting on.

“Why?”

I asked, though deep down I already knew the answer.

“Is it because of her?”

Ethan remained silent. His silence was the clearest admission.

It was then that Jenna lifted her head and looked at me, her eyes filled with tears.

“Willow, I’m so sorry. You can’t control feelings. Ethan and I… we truly love each other.”

I let out a short, sharp laugh full of contempt.

“Love him? Your love is built on someone else’s suffering, on the destruction of a family. Do you have any idea that my daughter is only three months old? She’s barely had time to recognize her own father’s face. And yet you two were capable of this cruelty.”

Hazel stirred slightly in my arms, as if sensing the tension in my words. I patted her back gently, fighting to keep myself from falling apart. I had to be strong for my daughter.

“Willow, don’t talk like that.”

Ethan finally spoke, his voice tinged with annoyance.

“This has nothing to do with Jenna. It’s because our feelings for each other have faded. I don’t want to be in a marriage where we’re not happy anymore.”

“We’re not happy,” I retorted. “And what about all these years? Were all those promises and memories a lie? When did your feelings fade? Was it when she showed up?”

I looked directly into his eyes, trying to find something familiar of the man I once loved, but I saw only coldness and determination. He had changed—or perhaps this was his true self, the one I had failed to see for so long.

The house fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the rhythmic breathing of a deeply sleeping Hazel. I knew there was no point in talking anymore. When a person’s heart changes, all words become meaningless.

Seeing the conversation at a stalemate, Jenna began to lose her patience. She dropped the vulnerable-victim act, jumping up and approaching me.

“Willow, I know this is hard for you, but please try to understand. Ethan isn’t happy with you anymore. Why do you insist on clinging to him and making all three of us miserable?”

I took a step back, clutching my daughter tighter against my chest.

“You have no right to say that to me. Who do you think you are? You’re nothing but the other woman who forced her way into our family.”

Jenna was speechless, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. She looked at Ethan for help.

“Ethan, look at what she’s saying to me.”

Ethan stood up and stepped between us.

“Willow, that’s enough. You’re going too far.”

“I’m going too far?”

I stared at him, feeling a fire ignite in my chest.

“Who’s really going too far here? You—who brings his mistress home to demand a divorce from the woman who just gave you a three-month-old daughter—and you have the right to tell me I’m going too far?”

My words seemed to wound his pride. Ethan’s face darkened.

In that exact moment, Jenna suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab my arm.

“Willow, please, just let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

Instinctively, I pulled back to dodge her. I didn’t want her to startle my baby. However, in Ethan’s eyes, my action looked like a deliberate attempt to provoke her. Without a second’s hesitation, he reached out and shoved me hard on the shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The push wasn’t extremely forceful, but I was holding our daughter, and my body was still weak from childbirth. Stumbling, I staggered back several steps and nearly fell. Thankfully, I managed to grab onto the staircase railing.

Hazel, startled awake, burst into terrified tears.

My heart sank. The man I had shared years of my life with—the father of my child—had just pushed me to protect his mistress. In that moment, everything inside me shattered. I no longer felt pain or attachment. Only a profound sense of disappointment and contempt.

The last tear for this marriage rolled down my cheek. I lifted my head, looked directly into Ethan’s and Jenna’s faces, and with a cold, resolute voice said:

“Fine, I’ll give you the divorce.”

My change in attitude seemed to surprise Ethan. He probably expected me to keep crying and begging. Jenna was also taken aback, staring at me with a dazed expression.

Without another word, I turned and walked straight up to my room with my sobbing daughter in my arms. The sound of the door closing echoed—cold and final—like the period at the end of a long, painful chapter of my life.

From that moment on, I would no longer be the submissive wife. I would be a mother, and I would do whatever it took to protect my daughter and seek justice for myself. A plan for revenge began to form in my mind—clear and methodical.

Days later, we sat down again to discuss the terms of the divorce. This time, there were no tears or accusations—just a tense silence and the visible calculations on everyone’s faces.

I had called my friend Jessica, a lawyer, to advise me—a move that clearly unsettled and annoyed Ethan and Jenna.

“I thought we could handle this between us,” Ethan said, his gaze toward Jessica heavy with suspicion. “There’s no need to complicate things.”

I offered a faint smile.

“I think the opposite. Getting things clear from the start prevents problems later. After all, we were married. I have no desire to see you in court over money or property down the line.”

The negotiation over our assets began. The house was a marital asset, but most of the down payment had come from my parents. The car Ethan drove was also in my name. The business loans for his startup were all in his name.

I didn’t demand half the house. That would be too complicated and take too long. Instead, I demanded that Ethan repay me the full amount my parents had given me for the house, plus half of the property’s current market value.

Ethan frowned.

“That’s too much money. I can’t get that right now.”

“That’s your problem,” I replied coldly. “Sell the house and pay me or take out a loan. I’ll give you three months.”

The most contentious point was custody.

Surprisingly, Ethan wanted custody of Hazel. I knew it wasn’t out of some overflowing love for his daughter. At three months old, he had barely held her ten times. He was doing it simply to save face with his family and friends—to prove he was a responsible father despite abandoning his wife.

“Hazel is my daughter. I have a right to raise her,” Ethan said firmly.

Jenna beside him added, “That’s right. Ethan will take great care of Hazel, and I’ll help him.”

I almost laughed at their naivety.

That’s when Jessica intervened, her voice professional and firm.

“In this state, family courts prioritize granting custody of an infant to the mother unless there are exceptional circumstances proving she is an unfit parent. Barring any evidence that the mother is unable to care for, nurture, and educate the child, or a mutual agreement stating otherwise, Willow meets all the criteria to raise her daughter. She is in good health, financially stable, and of sound moral character.

“If Mr. Thompson insists on pursuing custody, we would be happy to go to court, and I can assure you the judge will rule in my client’s favor.”

Ethan’s and Jenna’s faces went pale. They clearly hadn’t expected that.

After a brief silence, Ethan reluctantly conceded.

Finally, child support.

I presented a figure that made their jaws drop—an amount of several thousand dollars a month, enough to ensure Hazel would have the most comfortable and secure life possible.

“Are you insane?” Ethan nearly shouted. “Where am I supposed to get that kind of money to give you?”

“Your monthly income is over $8,000,” I replied calmly, each word hitting its mark. “I don’t believe this is an unreasonable amount. It’s your responsibility as a father. You may not need this wife anymore, but Hazel will be your daughter forever. Or do you want your daughter to go without?”

Jenna couldn’t hold back any longer.

“This is practically extortion. Ethan has to start a new life, and he has me to take care of now, too.”

“That’s your problem,” I cut her off coldly. “It has nothing to do with me or my daughter. If you don’t agree, we’ll see you in court. And then it won’t just be child support on the table. All of your income and assets will be scrutinized by a judge. Is that what you want?”

Ethan looked at me. There was anger in his eyes, but also helplessness. He knew I wasn’t bluffing.

Finally, after a long back and forth, he grudgingly agreed to all my terms. Jenna, beside him, had a grim face and shot me a murderous glare. I knew she was furious that her plans for a life of luxury had been partially ruined by me.

But this was only the beginning.

After signing the divorce settlement—which was so advantageous for me—the air in the house seemed to grow even heavier. Ethan and Jenna probably thought my daughter and I would pack our bags immediately, making room for them to build their new love nest.

But I didn’t see it that way. Letting them off so easily would be a gift.

That evening, after putting Hazel to bed, I went down to the living room. Ethan was alone, a glass of wine in his hand and a pensive expression on his face. Jenna had likely retreated to her room, feigning exhaustion and vulnerability.

I approached slowly and sat in the chair across from him.

“Hey,” I began, my voice steady. “Now that it’s all over… I know we have to leave.”

Ethan didn’t look at me, just nodded.

“When are you thinking of moving out? If you need help, let me know. I can send someone to help you with the move.”

I lowered my head, clasping my hands, and put on a look of distress.

“I want to leave right away, but look—the baby is still so little. There are so many things. The crib, the stroller, the clothes, the diapers, the formula. I’m all alone now, and I haven’t fully recovered from childbirth. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to manage it all.”

I lifted my head, my eyes deliberately watery.

“Besides, it’s hard to find an apartment right now, and I want to find a quiet, safe place for the baby, and that will take time. Could we stay here for just a few more weeks? I promise we won’t bother you at all. We just need a little space to stay.”

My words seemed to touch the last shred of guilt left in Ethan’s heart. He looked at me, then glanced up the stairs toward Hazel’s room. A faint whimper came from the baby as she slept. Perhaps the image of his tiny daughter softened his stone heart a little.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Stay for now. Just until you find a new place. This was your home, too, after all.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice full of gratitude. “Thank you so, so much.”

But inside, a cold smile was forming.

My plan had worked. I had bought myself more time and opportunities to execute the next phase. By staying here under the same roof, I could observe them, understand them more deeply, and most importantly, I would make our presence a constant thorn in their side, ensuring they wouldn’t have a single day of peace.

This house should have been a home for me and my daughter. Now, it would become the stage for a play of revenge directed by me. Ethan and Jenna—the two lead actors—would have to perform according to the script I had already written.

The nights in my own home felt like I was a renter, and I often couldn’t sleep. When Hazel was fast asleep, I would sit alone in the darkness, letting old memories flood my mind.

Ethan and I once had a love that many envied. Ten years isn’t a long time, but it isn’t short, either. It was long enough to go from innocent college students to adults—to build our careers together and to create this home.

I still vividly remembered the day I met him on campus under a sprawling oak tree. He was wearing a crisp white shirt and smiling like the sun, and my freshman heart skipped a beat. We had a beautiful romance. We spent modest days together, but they were filled with laughter.

Seven years ago, we decided to get married with the blessings of family and friends. I thought I was the happiest woman in the world.

But life isn’t always a fairy tale.

The tragedy began two years ago when I was pregnant with our first child. He was a healthy boy. You can’t imagine how happy we were. We bought baby things together, one by one, and imagined a future filled with his laughter.

But an accident took it all away.

It was a weekend. I was eight months pregnant, my belly huge. Ethan was driving me to buy more things for the baby. While driving, he was on a work call and didn’t see a truck pulling out of an alley. He slammed on the brakes, and the impact threw me forward.

I was rushed to the hospital, but it was too late. I lost my son.

The pain of losing my child was like a knife twisting in my heart. But what hurt the most was Ethan’s attitude. He was sad, too. He blamed himself. But his guilt wasn’t for the pain of losing a son who was never born—it was remorse.

He avoided me. He avoided talking about the baby. He threw himself into work as if trying to escape reality. He didn’t hold me to comfort me. He didn’t cry with me.

An invisible, insurmountable gap began to open between us.

That was when Jenna appeared. She was a new hire in my department—young, beautiful, and most importantly, she knew how to show admiration and empathy for Ethan. She listened to him complain about work, about the pressure, about the pain he couldn’t share with his wife.

She gave him the comfort he needed—a false comfort—and the inevitable happened.

While I was drowning in my grief, they began seeing each other behind my back.

It’s not that I didn’t notice the changes in Ethan. The secret calls, the hastily deleted texts, the nights he came home late with the excuse of business dinners, the scent of a strange perfume on his clothes.

My wifely intuition told me he was betraying me, but I tried to ignore it. I deceived myself. I thought maybe I was being too sensitive. I was afraid to face the truth.

I was afraid that if I exposed everything, I would lose him and the family I had worked so hard to build. I hoped that if I was patient and loved him more, he would realize his mistake and come back.

But I was wrong.

My silence emboldened him, and his affair became more and more open. And now they dared to try and kick me out.

The pain of the past—of losing my son—and the pain of today’s betrayal mingled, turning into a flame of revenge that burned secretly in my heart, waiting for the day it would consume everything.

I was never a foolish woman. Love had simply blinded me for a time.

Before Ethan confessed everything, I had used my position as a team lead to discreetly investigate Jenna. It wasn’t difficult, and what I discovered left me stunned by her audacity and her methods.

Jenna was not the innocent, pure woman she pretended to be.

Before meeting Ethan, she had been the mistress of the company’s vice president, Mr. Lawrence Hayes. He was twenty years her senior and had a family. He provided her with a life of luxury—from the high-end apartment she lived in to the expensive designer items she owned.

That relationship lasted for several years.

I also heard rumors from Jenna’s former colleagues that she had undergone more than one abortion. It all blew up when Mr. Hayes’s wife found out. She came to the office and caused a huge scene, humiliating Jenna to the point where she couldn’t even lift her head.

Mr. Hayes, fearing for his career and his family, immediately cut off all contact and support for Jenna.

It was at that moment, without her financial backing and desperate, that Jenna set her sights on Ethan.

My husband at the time was a talented sales manager with a high income and, most importantly, problems in his marriage. He became the perfect prey.

Jenna used her old tricks, pretending to be a pitiable, vulnerable creature in need of protection to get close to and seduce Ethan. And my husband—a man bored with his marriage—fell easily into the sweet trap.

I knew all of this. I knew it better than Ethan did.

I knew Jenna wasn’t with him for pure love, but largely for his money and status, because she needed a new cash cow to replace the VP. But I chose to stay silent.

What good would revealing everything now do? It would only humiliate Ethan further. And he, thinking I was spreading rumors out of jealousy, would protect her even more.

No, I wouldn’t do that. I would save this secret like an ace up my sleeve. I would let Ethan and Jenna revel in their fake love.

I would wait for the most opportune moment—when they least expected it—and I would play this card.

I wanted Ethan to see with his own eyes the true face of the woman for whom he had abandoned his family. I wanted him to taste the pain of being deceived and betrayed, just as I had.

My revenge wouldn’t be loud or rushed. It would be slow—like a poison seeping in bit by bit until they tormented and tore each other apart.

I knew my in-laws, who lived in a small town upstate, loved me very much and especially adored their first grandchild, Hazel. But I didn’t call them to tell them the news.

I wanted Ethan to do it. I wanted to see how he would explain this cruel decision to his parents.

And just as I expected, two days after we signed the divorce agreement, my in-laws arrived in a hurry. As soon as I saw the taxi pull up in front of the door, I knew the storm was about to hit.

My mother-in-law, Carol—though a simple small-town woman—had a very direct and explosive personality. She entered the house like a whirlwind. Before even greeting me or asking about her granddaughter, she scanned the room for Ethan, her eyes blazing.

“Where is that good-for-nothing son of mine? Get that worthless boy out here. Make him face me.”

Ethan and Jenna, who were in the kitchen, came running out when they heard his mother’s voice. Upon seeing Jenna hiding behind her son, Carol’s anger ignited like gunpowder.

“Ah, there you are, you little home-wrecking hussy. What kind of witchcraft did you use to bewitch my son? Get out of my house right now. Who gave you permission to set foot in here?”

With that, unable to contain her fury, she rolled up her sleeves, ready to give Jenna what she deserved.

Ethan, terrified, rushed to hold his mother back to protect his mistress.

“Mom, please calm down. Calm down.”

Carol, struggling against her son, pointed directly at Jenna’s face and insulted her.

“You’re still defending her? Look at what you’ve done. Your wife just had a baby. My granddaughter is an infant, and you dare to kick them out onto the street to bring this disaster in? Are you even human?”

My father-in-law, Howard, entered at that moment. He was a quieter man, but his face was hardened with anger. He looked at his son and shook his head in disappointment.

“Ethan, I never thought you’d be like this. Your mother and I taught you to be a decent, responsible person. How are you going to face people after treating your wife and daughter like this?”

Jenna, pale as a ghost, could only hide behind Ethan.

Ethan had to restrain his mother while enduring a torrent of insults, his face red with shame and anger.

“Dad, Mom, these are my affairs. Stay out of it. I’m a grown man. I know what I’m doing.”

“You know what you’re doing? And knowing it, you destroy your family.”

Carol broke free from Ethan’s grasp. She walked straight over to me where I had been standing silently with Hazel in my arms.

She looked at me, then at her granddaughter, and her furious gaze softened into compassion. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“My dear girl, you’re suffering so much. What have you and my granddaughter done to deserve this? You stay right here. You don’t have to go anywhere. This is your house and my granddaughter’s house. Let’s see who dares to kick you out.”

Then she turned and glared at Ethan and Jenna with a look as sharp as a knife.

“And you—you’d better treat your wife and daughter right, or this old woman won’t have any mercy.”

My in-laws’ fury created a completely new situation. Their arrival became a protective shield for us. I knew that from now on, Ethan and Jenna’s life in this house would be anything but easy.

And that was a crucial part of my plan.

My in-laws’ arrival completely upended Ethan and Jenna’s lives, and at the same time, they became the perfect support for my plan. They announced they would be staying for a while to take care of their granddaughter and re-educate their son.

The downstairs guest room that Ethan had planned to clear out for me became my in-laws’ room.

Every day, Carol would get up early to go to the market and prepare nutritious postpartum meals for me. She took care of everything related to Hazel—bathing her, changing her diapers, putting her to sleep.

She did all of this ostentatiously in front of Jenna, as if to make it clear that in this house I was the only daughter-in-law, and Hazel was the only grandchild.

Jenna, who had been acting like the future lady of the house, was suddenly reduced to a piece of furniture—a thorn in my in-laws’ side. She would lock herself in her room and barely come out.

Meal times were torture for her. Carol wouldn’t speak to her and wouldn’t let Ethan serve her food. She only insisted on feeding me.

“Eat up, dear. You need to be strong to nurse our granddaughter.”

They also set new rules. Ethan had to be home for dinner every night, and after dinner, he had to spend at least an hour playing with his daughter. Ethan didn’t like it, but he couldn’t disobey his parents and had to comply begrudgingly.

And I, of course, took full advantage of this opportunity.

I deliberately created moments where Ethan had to have close contact with his daughter. When he was watching TV, I’d approach with Hazel.

“Honey, can you hold the baby for a sec? I’m going to make her bottle. My back is killing me today.”

Ethan couldn’t refuse in front of his parents. He awkwardly took the baby from my arms. Hazel, so small, didn’t know anything and smiled at everyone.

Her smile had a magical power to soothe people.

I watched as Ethan’s gaze toward his daughter gradually softened. Although he was still clumsy, he began to practice holding her and changing her diapers.

Whenever this happened, Jenna could only watch from a distance with eyes full of jealousy.

Once she couldn’t hold it in and said to Ethan, “All you do all day is fuss over that baby. What about me?”

Before Ethan could respond, Carol yelled from the kitchen:

“He’s her father. He’s supposed to take care of his daughter. What do you expect? You want to have a child of your own for him to take care of? We’ll talk about that when I need a walker to get around.”

Carol’s words were like a bucket of ice water on Jenna, who was left speechless.

I knew that Hazel was the tie that bound Ethan to the past and to responsibility. He could abandon me easily, but abandoning his own flesh and blood wasn’t so simple—especially with family pressure.

Paternal love might be overshadowed by a passing passion, but it’s an instinct that exists deep in every man’s heart. And I would use that bond to slowly pull him back, to torment him, and make him regret until his relationship with Jenna cracked under its own weight.

My plan was proceeding smoothly. The presence of my in-laws and Hazel had turned the house into a silent battlefield where Ethan and Jenna were always on the defensive.

But I knew this wasn’t enough. I needed a stronger blow to fully awaken the paternal love and guilt in Ethan’s heart.

One night after my in-laws had gone to bed, I noticed Hazel wasn’t feeling well. I touched her forehead. She had a slight fever.

An idea crossed my mind.

I waited until midnight when the whole family was fast asleep. And then I woke my daughter. The baby, who had been sleeping peacefully, burst into tears upon being disturbed.

I didn’t console her. I let her cry a little louder.

Then I ran to knock on Ethan’s door with a panicked, trembling voice.

“Ethan, Ethan, wake up—quick. Hazel has a really high fever.”

The urgent knocking and the baby’s cries woke Ethan and Jenna. Ethan opened the door, his face still sleepy and very annoyed.

“What is it? Why all the noise?”

“The baby… the baby has a fever,” I said, pointing toward my room. “She’s burning up and won’t stop crying. I’m so scared.”

Upon hearing about the baby, Ethan’s annoyance vanished, replaced by concern. He rushed into my room. Jenna followed, curious.

Ethan touched the baby’s forehead and then hurried to find the thermometer.

101.3°.

“She really has a high fever,” he muttered. “Bundle her up. I’m getting the car. We’re going to the hospital right now.”

With that, he ran downstairs without hesitation to get the car keys.

Jenna stood in the doorway with a somewhat bewildered expression. She looked like she wanted to say something, but seeing Ethan’s tense face, she held back.

On the way to the hospital, I sat in the back seat with the baby in my arms. As Ethan drove, he kept turning around to ask, “How is she? Is she still crying?”

His voice was filled with genuine worry.

When we arrived at the pediatric emergency room, the place was a chaotic mess of crying children and worried adults. Ethan ran back and forth handling the admission paperwork, buying medicine, and bringing water for the baby.

Seeing his busy back in the middle of the night, I suddenly saw a familiar figure—the old husband, the old father. He might be a bad husband, but perhaps he wasn’t an irredeemable father just yet.

The doctor said Hazel had a common viral fever, nothing to worry about, and that she just needed to stay overnight for observation. Ethan insisted on staying at the hospital to take care of her.

He sat by the bed and stayed up almost the entire night, constantly touching her forehead to check her temperature.

Looking at his little daughter sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed, his face was filled with compassion and remorse.

I knew he wouldn’t sleep that night, and that was exactly what I wanted.

Guilt would be the most effective weapon. It would slowly erode his love for his mistress.

After that night at the hospital, Ethan seemed to change completely. He showed noticeably more attention to his daughter. Every day when he came home from work, the first thing he did was go to her room to check on her.

He would hold her, cuddle her, and started buying her formula, clothes, and toys—things he had never done before.

At night, he spent more time in my room with his daughter, sometimes staying late before going back to his own.

Even though the baby didn’t understand anything yet, he practiced feeding her and read her stories.

Seeing father and daughter together, my in-laws couldn’t hide their satisfaction. Carol even told me:

“This is how it should be. There’s nothing stronger than blood ties. He’ll come to his senses soon, dear.”

I of course maintained a cold and distant attitude toward Ethan. If he spoke to me, I replied in monosyllables. If he asked how I was, I answered reluctantly, but I didn’t stop him from getting close to the baby.

I gave him the opportunity for his paternal love to emerge as naturally as possible.

One night, as I was putting Hazel to sleep, Ethan came into the room and sat by the bed. He watched me and the baby in silence for a long time, and then suddenly, in a low voice, said:

“Willow, I’m sorry.”

I didn’t turn to look at him. I kept stroking the baby and asked:

“What are you sorry for?”

“Everything. For putting you and the baby through so much suffering.”

I gave a faint smile.

“What good is an apology now? Everything’s already been decided.”

“I know,” Ethan sighed. “I know I messed up… these last few days, looking at the baby. I just feel so guilty. She should have had a united family. It’s all my fault.”

He started to ramble about the pressure and exhaustion he had felt, as if trying to justify his actions. He said he had been too selfish, only thinking about his own feelings and forgetting his responsibility to his family.

I listened in silence. I didn’t need these excuses, but I knew it was a good sign.

Regret and guilt had begun to sprout and grow in his heart. The deeper his feelings for Hazel became, the greater his guilt toward me would be. And when that guilt was big enough, it would become a wall between him and Jenna.

Meanwhile, Jenna was becoming increasingly neurotic. She clearly saw the change in Ethan. Seeing him pull away from her and become obsessed with his daughter, her jealousy began to flare.

She often picked fights and argued with Ethan.

“All you think about is that baby all day. What am I in this house?”

“What are you talking about? She’s my daughter. Is it wrong for me to care about her?”

“But the person who’s going to spend her future with you is me. You shouldn’t neglect the present for the past.”

Their arguments became more and more frequent, and I could hear everything from my room. Each time, I smiled.

Everything was going in the right direction.

I didn’t have to do anything but sit back and watch them destroy their own relationship.

Jenna’s jealousy reached its peak. She started monitoring Ethan, tracking his every move related to me and my daughter. She couldn’t stand that Ethan was dedicating more and more time and attention to Hazel.

And finally, the opportunity for her to explode arrived.

That day, Hazel had an appointment for her second dose of her regular vaccinations. Ethan, as he had promised, took the morning off to take her. I, of course, didn’t object. It was a father’s responsibility.

Early in the morning, as I was getting the baby ready to leave, Jenna suddenly walked into my room. She was wearing a rather nice dress and had carefully applied her makeup.

“I’m going with you,” she declared in a tone that brooked no argument.

I raised an eyebrow and looked at her.

“Why are you coming? This is a family matter.”

“Family,” Jenna scoffed. “Don’t forget, you two are divorced, and I’m going to be Ethan’s wife. His daughter’s business is my business, too. I’m going to see how he takes care of the baby—and to learn.”

I didn’t want to argue with her. I knew perfectly well she was coming to monitor and cause trouble.

When Ethan came downstairs and saw Jenna ready to go, he looked surprised and a bit uncomfortable.

“Why are you coming? You should stay home and rest.”

“I want to go with you,” Jenna said flirtatiously, clinging to Ethan’s arm. “Come on.”

Faced with his mistress’s insistence, Ethan could only sigh and agree.

Thus, the trip to the pediatrician’s office suddenly had an unwanted guest.

The office was crowded and noisy with the cries of children. Ethan looked like a very competent father. He held the baby, calmed her, and handled the paperwork quickly.

After the shot, Hazel burst into tears, and Ethan cradled her in his arms, patting her lovingly.

It was that moment that made Jenna snap.

She stood to the side, watching the tender scene between father and daughter with eyes that shot daggers, and then started making snide remarks loud enough for people around to hear.

“What a whiny baby! Crying like she’s dying over a little shot. When I have a child, I won’t let him be such a crybaby.”

Her words were like a knife to both me and Ethan.

He frowned and turned to Jenna.

“What are you saying? She’s a baby. It’s normal for her to cry. Don’t you see all the other kids are crying, too?”

“But she’s crying too much. It’s giving me a headache.”

Jenna didn’t stop.

“Her mother must not have raised her right. Crying and kicking over every little thing.”

“Shut up.”

This time it was me who intervened. My voice was as cold as ice.

“You are in no position to judge my daughter. You have no right.”

“I have no right?”

Jenna looked furious.

“I’m going to give Ethan a child, too. I’m her new mother. Why wouldn’t I have a right?”

Our argument started to attract attention. People were looking at us curiously and whispering. Ethan, embarrassed, pulled Jenna’s hand.

“That’s enough. Let’s go home.”

At that moment, Jenna suddenly clutched her stomach, grimaced, and slowly slid to the floor.

“Oh, it hurts. My stomach hurts so much. Honey, help me. Our… our baby.”

The room instantly descended into chaos. Ethan was genuinely scared. He quickly handed Hazel to me and helped Jenna up.

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“My stomach. It hurts so much. I think I’m having a miscarriage, honey.”

Jenna moaned miserably.

I stood there coldly, observing her clumsy performance.

A miscarriage? What a tired excuse.

But Ethan bought it.

Flustered, he called a cab, picked Jenna up in his arms, put her in the car, and headed straight for the nearest maternity hospital.

Hazel and I were left behind.

I watched the taxi drive away and gave a contemptuous smile.

Let’s see how far you take this act.

I took Hazel and went home first.

My in-laws, seeing us arrive alone, asked worriedly, “Where’s Ethan and that Jenna girl? Why are you back alone with the baby?”

I calmly told them everything that had happened at the clinic. Of course, from the victim’s perspective, I emphasized how Jenna had deliberately picked a fight, cursed at Hazel, and then faked a stomachache.

My mother-in-law, upon hearing the story, slammed her fist on the table in fury.

“For God’s sake, what will that harpy think of next? She’s a viper. Cursing a little baby like that—she deserves to be punished.”

My father-in-law was calmer.

“Let’s wait for Ethan to come back and see what he says. But that Jenna girl… she doesn’t have a good heart.”

About two hours later, Ethan returned alone. His face was a mixture of exhaustion and a complex, indescribable emotion.

“How’s Jenna?” I asked, feigning concern.

Ethan slumped into a chair. He poured a full glass of water and drank it in one gulp.

“She’s pregnant.”

The entire house fell silent.

I wasn’t surprised. I had expected it, but my in-laws were shocked. My mother-in-law stammered:

“What? What did you say? She’s really pregnant?”

“Yes. The doctor said she’s almost six weeks along. She had a slight scare earlier because of the agitation, but she’s fine now. The doctor told her to rest at home, be careful, and avoid strong emotions.”

The atmosphere in the house became heavy.

Regardless of who the mother was, that child was this family’s blood. That changed everything.

My mother-in-law, who had been cursing Jenna just a moment ago, now had a serious face and said nothing. She glanced at me, and in her look, there was a hint of apology.

I knew what she was thinking. As much as she loved me, the desire for a grandchild to carry on the family line was deeply ingrained in the consciousness of people of her generation.

Ethan looked at me and said apologetically:

“Willow, I know this is very sudden, but now that Jenna is expecting my child, I have to be responsible.”

“And what does your responsibility have to do with me?” I replied in a frosty voice. “You and I are divorced. Who you marry, who you have children with is your freedom. Just fulfill your child support obligation to Hazel.”

With that, I picked up my daughter and went up to my room, leaving behind a whirlwind of complex emotions.

I knew the fight was about to get a little harder.

Jenna now had a trump card. My in-laws, even if they didn’t like her, wouldn’t treat her as badly as before for the sake of their unborn grandchild. Ethan would also feel he had a legitimate reason to stay by her side.

But it didn’t matter. I still had my ace up my sleeve. A child of unknown origin wasn’t going to scare me.

Let them be happy. The greater the joy, the deeper the disappointment would be when the truth was revealed.

The news of the pregnancy brought a subtle but palpable change to the house. Carol stopped insulting Jenna. Her attitude was still cold, but she started preparing extra nutritious dishes for the pregnant woman.

However, when serving them, she would still say she had made them for me.

“You eat well and get your strength up. Whatever’s left over, someone else can eat it.”

Jenna, getting the message, ate in silence without making any requests.

Ethan tried to act like a responsible man. He took more care of Jenna, but at the same time, he didn’t neglect Hazel. Perhaps he was trying to find a balance between the past and the future, but that very effort made him more tired and stressed.

I observed all of this and knew my opportunity had arrived.

It was time to drop a bomb on this false equilibrium.

At the end of the year, there was a major project at the company. This was true—not something I made up. I had worked very hard on this project and decided to use it as the perfect excuse.

One night during dinner with the whole family, I said in a tired voice:

“Howard, Carol, Ethan… I have something to tell you.”

They all looked at me.

“Lately, with the year-end crunch, work has been insane. Next week, I have to go on a business trip to Chicago for a week to close a deal, but I don’t know what to do with Hazel.”

Carol immediately said:

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t worry about work. Just go. We’ll take care of our granddaughter. Ethan is here, too. What are you worried about?”

That was exactly what I wanted to hear.

I feigned reluctance.

“But it would be such a bother for you. You’re getting older, and Ethan has to work and also take care of Jenna.”

I deliberately glanced at Jenna.

Ethan, as if to prove his worth, quickly said:

“Don’t worry, Willow. Go on your trip. Hazel is my daughter. It’s my duty to care for her. Besides, Grandpa and Grandma will help, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Jenna, sitting next to him, was unhappy, but didn’t dare object. To object now would be to admit she was an intolerant and selfish stepmother.

She forced a smile.

“Yes, go on. We’ll take good care of Hazel.”

I looked at them and smiled coldly to myself.

I knew exactly what they were thinking. They thought this was an opportunity for Ethan to express his paternal love and for the family to bond more with Hazel. They thought this would lay the groundwork for Hazel to accept Jenna and her future sibling.

They willingly fell into the trap I had set.

“Okay, then. Thank you so much, Howard, Carol, and Ethan,” I said, my voice full of gratitude. “It’s just for a week. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

So, the decision was made with everyone’s happy agreement—except for my own true intentions.

They didn’t know that the week of my absence would be the week that brought a storm to this house.

I wasn’t going to Chicago.

I would rent a nearby Airbnb to work, rest, and most importantly, to witness a wonderful play called Hell at Home.

From the first day of my supposed business trip, Jenna’s life became chaos. She, who had never cared for a child and was in a period of morning sickness and fatigue, now had to deal with a baby just over four months old.

Hazel, sensing her mother’s absence, was fussier and cried more than usual—especially at night. Her cries shattered the silence of the house and tortured everyone’s ears, especially Jenna’s.

“Honey, get the baby to quiet down. I can’t sleep,” Jenna would complain to Ethan over and over.

Ethan, exhausted from work during the day and having to soothe the baby at night, also started to get irritated.

“I’m trying. You think this is easy?”

But the ones protecting Hazel were my in-laws. As soon as they heard their granddaughter cry or Jenna complain, Carol would appear.

“What’s wrong? Why is my granddaughter crying so much?”

She would scoop Hazel into her arms and glare at Jenna.

“She’s probably hungry or her diaper is wet. This girl doesn’t even know how to take care of a baby while her partner works. And she’s pregnant on top of it all. Useless.”

Jenna, feeling wronged, would burst into tears.

“Carol, why do you talk to me like that? I’m exhausted, too.”

“Well, if you’re exhausted, you’ll have to deal with it,” Carol had no mercy. “When I was pregnant with Ethan, I worked in the fields from sunup to sundown. And when I got home, I cooked, fed the pigs, I did everything. I didn’t have anyone waiting on me like you do, and you’re complaining. If you can’t handle this, I don’t know what you’ll do when your own child is born.”

These confrontations were a daily occurrence. From being the pampered mistress, Jenna went to living under the reprimands of her mother-in-law, the irritation of her partner, and the incessant cries of his daughter.

She lost her appetite and couldn’t sleep well. The house she thought would be her paradise had literally become a hell.

She started taking her anger out on Ethan.

“This is all your fault. Why don’t you just be done with that woman and her daughter? Now look, I have to put up with all this.”

“I told you I have to be responsible for my daughter,” Ethan retorted, raising his voice. “If you decided to be with me, you had to accept my daughter, too.”

“But I didn’t know I had to accept your parents and live like this, too. I’m sick of it. Let’s move out of here.”

“Move out? You say it so easily. Where are we going to get the money? The issue with this house still isn’t settled with Willow. Stop making unreasonable demands.”

The war continued. They argued from the living room to the bedroom, and one day dishes were even thrown.

My in-laws just shook their heads, but you could tell they were secretly enjoying the situation. They left them to their own devices to resolve their conflicts.

From my short-term rental, I received occasional calls from Carol. She told me all the house gossip, her voice a mixture of lament—and a little bit of gloating.

I just listened and smiled.

Everything was going better than I had expected. In just a few days, they had become like oil and water.

I wondered what would be left of that house by the time I returned on the seventh day. Probably just the ashes of a misguided relationship.

Exactly seven days later, on a Sunday afternoon, I decided it was time to return.

For the past week, I had dedicated myself completely to work and rest. And most importantly, I had gotten in touch with the respectable Mr. Hayes, the vice president.

Months ago, after the scandal between him and Jenna erupted, I had subtly obtained his personal phone number through a trusted colleague. I only sent him one text message.

“Hello, Mr. Hayes. This is Willow, Ethan’s wife. It seems we have a common enemy named Jenna. I have information that might interest you. If you want to reclaim the pride you lost, meet with me.”

Mr. Hayes—a seasoned man resentful of being duped by a young woman—agreed without hesitation.

We had a long conversation. I told him everything: how Jenna had destroyed my family, and how she was now pregnant to trap my ex-husband. The anger of a cheated man boiled within him, and he was more than willing to cooperate with me.

I asked him to pick me up at a coffee shop near the house. I wanted to create a perfectly natural scene, as if I had just arrived from the airport.

When Mr. Hayes’s luxury car pulled up in front of the door, I got out with a small suitcase. Mr. Hayes, ever the gentleman, opened the door for me and, like a good colleague, helped me with my bag.

When I rang the doorbell, it was Carol who opened the door.

Upon seeing me, her face lit up with joy.

“Honey, you’re back. You have no idea how much we’ve missed you. Come in. Come in.”

Then she saw Mr. Hayes. His appearance—a distinguished, elegant, middle-aged gentleman—surprised her a bit.

“Oh… hello.”

I quickly introduced, “This is Mr. Hayes, the VP of our company. He gave me a ride from the airport. Mr. Hayes, this is Ethan’s mother.”

Mr. Hayes smiled professionally and gave a slight bow to my mother-in-law.

“Hello, ma’am. I was just dropping Willow off. I’ll be on my way.”

“Oh, what a distinguished guest. Please come in for some tea,” Carol, out of courtesy, invited him in.

And just like that, the unwanted guest I had deliberately placed entered the house quietly.

In the living room, everyone was gathered at that moment. Howard was reading the newspaper. Ethan, his face exhausted after a week of battle, was holding Hazel.

Jenna was also sitting on the sofa, looking weary, with one hand on her stomach.

The moment Jenna looked up and saw the man who walked in with me, her face changed instantly. She turned white as a sheet, her eyes wide with disbelief and panic.

She stammered, “Mister… Mr. Hayes…”

Ethan, busy calming the baby, looked up at the sound of Jenna’s voice. He recognized his boss and quickly stood up to greet him, but he couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Mr. Hayes, what… what are you doing here?”

Mr. Hayes didn’t look at Ethan. His gaze was fixed on Jenna, a look mixed with contempt and mockery.

He smirked.

“Well, look at this. Everyone’s here. What a coincidence.”

“Sales Manager Thompson, you’re quite the character. While you were fooling around with your wife’s subordinate, you also had time to take care of your boss’s mistress.”

The entire room froze in an instant.

The play had officially begun.

Mr. Hayes’s words landed like a massive weight in the silent living room. My in-laws were bewildered, not understanding what was happening.

Ethan turned pale and stood frozen in place. He looked from Jenna to his boss, his eyes filled with confusion.

“Mr. Hayes, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

Mr. Hayes let out a laugh—the satisfied chuckle of someone in complete control.

He sat down comfortably on the sofa, crossed his legs, and stared at the trembling Jenna.

“You don’t understand? Well, let me explain it to you. The lovely Miss Jenna here—before she was your mistress—was the woman I was keeping for three years. The apartment she lives in, the car she drives, the designer things she owns—I paid for all of it. Did you know that?”

Ethan was stunned. His mouth hung open as he stared at Jenna as if she were a strange creature.

“Jenna… is what he’s saying true?”

Jenna, pale as a ghost, stammered.

“No, it’s not true, honey. Don’t listen to him. He’s lying. He’s slandering me.”

“Slandering you?” Mr. Hayes laughed again. “Why would I slander you? Have you forgotten the times you told me I was the man you loved most in the world? The times you begged me to buy you purses, clothes—or have you forgotten the times I took you to the clinic to fix your messes?

“Let’s see. It was three times, wasn’t it?”

Every word from Mr. Hayes was like a dagger to Ethan’s heart. He staggered, and Hazel almost fell from his arms. Carol rushed to take her granddaughter. She was also beginning to understand the situation, and her gaze toward Jenna was filled with fury.

“So, you were that kind of woman?”

Mr. Hayes didn’t stop. He seemed to relish the pleasure of taking down the one who had betrayed him.

“And the height of this deception is that while she was still taking my money, she was seeing you behind my back, wasn’t she, Manager Thompson? She told me you were just an annoying colleague who wouldn’t leave her alone. She told me, crying, that she had to pretend to be nice to you so your boss—your wife—would stop harassing her out of jealousy.

“And I believed it… until my wife found out and caused that scene. Turns out, for a long time, a clever little fox had been playing me for a fool. Isn’t that hilarious?”

All eyes turned to Jenna. There wasn’t a drop of color left in her face, and she was trembling from head to toe.

She looked at Ethan and burst into tears.

“Ethan, I’m sorry. I had no choice. He was coercing me back then. I really love you.”

But Ethan wasn’t listening anymore. His face went from pale to a deep red of rage and humiliation. The fact that he had been so bitterly deceived had trampled his pride as a man.

He stared at Jenna’s belly, his look full of suspicion and disgust.

“That baby…” he whispered. “The baby you’re carrying… is it really mine?”

That was the question I had been waiting for.

The final blow had been delivered.

Jenna, hearing that, screamed like a mad woman.

“It’s your child. Of course, it’s your child. How can you doubt me? Don’t you trust me?”

But once doubt had been planted, nothing could extinguish it.

Ethan looked at her with cold, strange eyes.

“I don’t trust you. From now on, I won’t believe a single word you say. That child—when it’s born—the first thing we’re doing is a paternity test. If it’s mine, I’ll take responsibility. If it’s not, you know what the consequences will be.”

With that, he turned away and didn’t look at Jenna again.

My play had come to a perfect end. I watched their collapse in silence, my heart unmoved. This was the price they had to pay.

From that day on, the house—which was already not peaceful—became even more suffocating.

My in-laws no longer kept up appearances with Jenna. They treated her as if she were invisible and even threw insults her way.

Ethan avoided her completely. He slept in the living room and didn’t speak a word to her. He looked at her with a mixture of disgust and suspicion.

Jenna lived like a shadow, alone. She cried, she begged, but it was all in vain.

Ethan began trying to reconcile with me. He showed a repentant attitude, doting on me and Hazel. He would say sweet things to me, reminisce about old times, hoping to rebuild our broken marriage.

I, of course, only responded with coldness. The colder I was, the more anxious he became.

One weekend, Ethan suggested we go shopping.

“We haven’t gone out as a family in a long time. You and the baby need some winter clothes. Let’s go.”

I didn’t want to go, but I thought it might be a good opportunity to put an end to everything.

I nodded.

We went to a large, crowded mall. Ethan acted like the model husband and father. He pushed Hazel’s stroller, carried my bags, and waited patiently while I chose clothes.

He bought me an expensive dress and lots of toys for Hazel.

Looking at us, no one would have thought we were a divorced couple.

But I knew we couldn’t escape Jenna’s pursuit. She, consumed by desperation and jealousy, had secretly followed us.

When we were in the children’s toy section, enjoying a pleasant moment, she suddenly appeared. Her face was gaunt, her hair disheveled.

“Having a nice time, Ethan? Leaving me pregnant with your child alone at home while you have fun with them here.”

Jenna’s shout drew everyone’s attention. Ethan’s face hardened.

“What are you doing here? Go home right now.”

“I’m not leaving. Why should I leave? You’re my fiancée. You have a responsibility to me.”

Jenna lunged to grab Ethan’s arm. I moved away with Hazel to avoid being caught in the fight.

A crowd gathered to watch, whispering and pointing. Some even took out their phones to record.

“Are you crazy? Who’s your fiancée?”

Ethan roughly shook Jenna off.

“I told you everything will be clear when the baby is born and we get the paternity test.”

Ethan’s words were like adding fuel to the fire.

“Paternity test? You dare say that? You don’t trust me? You don’t trust your own flesh and blood?”

Jenna, crying, began to beat on Ethan’s chest.

During the struggle, whether by accident or on purpose, Jenna’s foot tripped on a toy on the floor. She stumbled and fell backward.

A scream was heard, and everyone was horrified. I saw a crimson stain spread across the white tiled floor between her legs.

Jenna clutched her stomach, her face contorted in pain.

“Oh, my baby—save my baby.”

This time, it wasn’t an act.

The tragedy had really happened.

Ethan stood frozen, his face ashen. The area was a chaos of screams and calls for an ambulance.

Amidst all the turmoil, I held my daughter tightly, observing the scene with emotionless eyes.

It was all finally coming to an end.

Jenna was rushed to the hospital, but it was too late. The baby couldn’t be saved.

Ironically, subsequent tests revealed it was a boy, and from his blood type, it was highly likely he was Ethan’s son.

But that didn’t matter anymore.

Ethan sat dazed in a hospital chair, his mind blank. He had suffered too great a shock. The scandal at the mall, Jenna’s fall, the image of the blood on the floor, and now this loss—it all hit him at once, leaving him helpless.

He had lost a child—a child he wasn’t even sure was his.

Guilt, regret, exhaustion, and weariness overwhelmed him.

When Jenna woke up, the first person she wanted to see was Ethan. She lay in bed weak and miserable. Crying, she took his hand.

“Honey, our baby is gone. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have followed you. Don’t leave me, okay? I only have you now.”

But Ethan was already serene. He looked at Jenna, and there was no longer any compassion in his eyes. The shock he had just endured seemed to have brought him to his senses. He realized this relationship had brought him nothing but trouble, lies, and tragedy.

Gently but firmly, he pulled his hand away from hers.

“Let’s end this, Jenna.”

His voice was flat, without a trace of emotion.

Jenna was stunned.

“What? What are you saying? Our baby just died. How can you be so cruel?”

“Precisely because he just died,” Ethan replied. “The only tie that could have bound us is gone. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to live a life full of arguments, jealousy, lies, and drama anymore.

“Take care of yourself. I’ll pay for all the hospital expenses.”

“No, I don’t agree,” Jenna screamed, trying to sit up. “You can’t do this to me. I sacrificed everything for you. I was pregnant with your child, and now I’ve miscarried and you’re just going to walk away. You’re the worst.”

“Yes, I’m the worst,” Ethan admitted calmly. “But you’re no better than me. Our meeting was a mistake from the beginning. It’s time to correct that mistake. Don’t look for me again.”

With that, he turned and left without looking back, leaving Jenna alone, sobbing in despair.

She had lost everything. She had lost the child. She had lost her financial support, and she had lost the man she had gone to great lengths to secure.

Her life’s gamble had failed spectacularly.

After ending his relationship with Jenna, Ethan dedicated himself completely to winning me back. He came home early every day. He bought flowers and gifts. He cooked my favorite dishes.

He took care of everything related to Hazel, from feeding her to putting her to sleep. He did everything he could to show his remorse.

My in-laws, after the shock of discovering Jenna’s true nature, were completely on my side. Carol took my hand, her eyes teary.

“Willow, our family has been unlucky, and Ethan has been a fool. Can’t you forgive him this one time? Our Hazel needs a united family. She needs her father and her mother. Please think about it again.”

Ethan even knelt before me—something I never would have imagined.

“Willow, I know I’ve caused you so much pain. I’m not asking you to forgive me right now, but please just give me a chance. A chance to fix my mistakes, to make it up to you and the baby. Let’s get married again. For the baby—for her future. Can’t we start over?”

He looked at me with a sincere, pleading gaze.

Everything seemed to be returning to its proper course. The betrayer had paid her price. The wayward husband had found his way back, like in a fairy tale with a happy ending.

But I was no longer the naïve princess from before.

I looked at him, at his parents, in silence—and then I gave a slight smile, a smile of relief and serenity.

“It’s too late.”

My words left all three of them stunned.

Ethan lifted his head in disbelief.

“Willow… what did you just say?”

“I said, ‘It’s too late for everything,’” I repeated, my voice calm and clear. “A ship that has sailed cannot return. A broken mirror cannot be mended. There are some mistakes that can’t be erased with a simple ‘I’m sorry.’”

I stood up and walked to the window looking out at the small front yard.

“During this time, I haven’t been sitting idle. I applied for a transfer, and it’s been approved.”

I turned to face them, my gaze resolute.

“Next week, I’m being appointed as the head of the company’s European branch. I’m leaving for a long-term assignment there. It could be three years, five, or maybe more.”

Ethan jumped up, his face contorted.

“Europe? Why so suddenly? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Why would I tell you?”

I smiled faintly.

“We’re divorced. I have my life, and you have yours. Thank you for showing me the true face of love and marriage. Thanks to you, I’ve understood that the most important things for a woman are her career and her independence.”

My words were like the final bucket of cold water that extinguished the last spark of hope Ethan had. He stood there paralyzed, realizing that he had lost me forever.

A week later, I finished all the paperwork to completely break with the past. I sold the house filled with memories—both happy and sad.

My in-laws, though sad and reluctant to part with their granddaughter, understood they couldn’t hold me back. They asked me to take care of myself and to call often so their granddaughter could talk to them.

I also called my mother, Diane, and asked her to come with me. After so many years of sacrificing for her children, it was time for her to rest and enjoy life.

The day we went to the airport, Ethan came to see us off. He looked haggard, as if he had aged ten years. He didn’t say much—just looked at me and the baby in silence, his eyes full of regret and pain.

He gave Hazel a very large teddy bear.

“Hazel… Daddy… sorry. Daddy wasn’t a good father. I hope when you grow up, you won’t hate me.”

I said nothing—just nodded in farewell.

As we were about to go through security to board, an unpleasant scene unfolded outside the airport entrance. Jenna, I don’t know how, had found out I was leaving and had come all the way here to intercept Ethan.

She was crying, clinging, and insulting him while Ethan tried to push her away. The two of them began their familiar struggle and argument again in the middle of the crowded terminal, attracting curious glances and pointing fingers.

I didn’t want to see anymore and turned away.

My mother sighed.

“It’s karma.”

I smiled and hugged my daughter.

Hazel was sleeping peacefully in my arms with an angelic face. She would grow up in a new environment, a new life—untroubled by the sad stories of adults.

I passed through security with a peaceful heart, leaving the entire past behind: the cheating husband, the pitiable mistress, the days of pain.

The speakers announced that the flight to Paris was about to take off.

I looked at the blue sky through the glass.

A bright future awaited my daughter and me.

My revenge had ended in the sweetest, most perfect way. I didn’t destroy them with hatred. Instead, I freed myself and moved forward to a new chapter of my life.