Chapter 2

I work tirelessly away from home for the sake of this family, hoping to reunite with them sooner.

Yet they spend my money and live with another man, showing no regard for my feelings.

If that's how it is, there's no point in continuing this charade.

I contacted a lawyer to discuss divorce proceedings. I definitely don't want custody; my daughter wouldn’t choose me anyway.

After the call, I lay on the couch, unable to sleep.

I opened Lachlan’s Snapchat and scrolled through.

He had just posted a new photo: he, Adeline, and our daughter, looking like a blissful family.

The caption read: "Two beauties spending Valentine's Day with me, I’m thrilled."

Their smiles pierced my heart. In all these years of marriage, they never took a photo with me.

Whenever I asked, she claimed not to like pictures. It turns out, she just didn’t want to take them with me.

Lachlan sent me a photo of him and Adeline in pajamas on my bed, full of mockery. I saved the image quietly.

If he wants a woman with a tarnished past, he can have her. No matter how indifferent I act, it still hurts.

How did Adeline and I reach this point?

Three years ago, I chose to work in another city for a better salary.

She supported me, saying she’d take care of our daughter.

But gradually, she changed, complaining that I couldn’t provide her with the security she desired.

She stopped sharing her daily life, and our conversations dwindled until there was nothing left to say.

Our calls went from daily to weekly, then bi-monthly, each ending in an argument.

But what could I do? I was buried under car loans, mortgages, and various expenses.

She only knew how to ask for money, blind to the pressure I was under.

My phone beeped with a message from her.

She behaved as if nothing had happened and asked for money.

"Rosalie needs tutoring, transfer me $1,000." I forced myself to transfer the funds. Soon after, she messaged again, "Transfer another $2,000; I’m out of makeup."

I tossed my phone aside, refusing to respond.

Drink after drink, the taste wasn’t as good as expected.

I used to fear her disdain, never allowing myself to indulge.

But now, the freedom to get drunk felt liberating—it let me forget my troubles, even if just for a while.

The next morning, a delivery call woke me. It was our custom wedding photos.

I touched the happy couple’s faces in the photo, feeling like it was from another lifetime.

When we married, we had no money.

She suggested skipping the wedding and photos, opting for a destination wedding instead.