Chapter 4

She was rendered speechless for a moment by my words.

After a while, she pulled out her phone and called Zack. "Daddy, can you send me some money? I want to go out for a fancy meal!"

"That old woman has gone insane. I don’t know what’s gotten into her! Not only did she refuse to cook, but she ordered some delicious takeout and didn’t even share. She even said she won’t care about me anymore."

"Really? You’ll be here soon? Great! I’ll wait for you to get home, Daddy!"

She hung up the phone and smugly turned to me. "My dad just got off the plane. He’ll be home soon, and he said he’s bringing me something delicious!"

"Look at how generous my dad is. Now look at you! I really don’t understand why my dad married you."

"Old and washed up, working a dead-end job that barely pays anything. You dress like a beggar every day—you’re not even as decent as a cleaning lady."

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

My job used to be demanding, with frequent overtime until seven or eight at night, but the pay was good. After giving birth to my daughter, I requested a position with shorter hours and lower pay so I could come home early every day to make her dinner.

From the time she started preschool until now, it’s been over ten years.

And yet, the sacrifices I made for her mean absolutely nothing in her eyes.

I smiled faintly, shook my head, and didn’t reply. I just focused on my meal.

It had been a long time since I’d eaten alone. The feeling was strangely refreshing.

By the time I was nearly finished, my daughter was so hungry that her stomach was practically growling. Finally, Zack arrived home, dragging his suitcase behind him.

Like a little cannonball, my daughter shot forward and threw herself into the arms of her beloved father.

"Daddy, you’re back!"

"That old woman must’ve lost her mind. She wouldn’t let me eat! I’m starving to death!"

Zack shot me a hateful glance and patted her on the head. "Salina, you’ve suffered. Let’s not bother with her. Come, eat."

"This is what Daddy bought for you on the way home. It’s your favorite dumplings—eat them while they’re hot."

With that, he placed a ten-dollar box of dumplings on the table.

My daughter gasped in delight. "Wow, thank you, Daddy! You’re the best!"

I nearly laughed out loud.

"Bought it on the way"? More like he just grabbed it casually while passing by. Zack was notoriously stingy, never willing to spend money on me or our daughter.

But when it came to his mistress, he spared no expense—designer clothes, handbags, and makeup were gifted without hesitation. He even bought her a luxury car worth hundreds of thousands without a second thought.

Whenever he spent even a little money on our daughter, he made a big show of it, desperate to make every dollar seem like a grand gesture.

And my daughter, naive as she was, always fell for it.

For instance, on her sixteenth birthday, he gave her a game item worth barely ten dollars. He claimed he had spent a lot of time carefully selecting it because he knew how much she loved the game. She was so thrilled she nearly jumped for joy, repeating over and over, "Daddy, you’re the best!"

Meanwhile, the $10,000 piano I bought her went completely unnoticed. She didn’t even glance at it, complaining instead that I only ever forced her to practice.

While she happily ate her dumplings, I called Zack over to the coffee table.

He frowned impatiently. "What do you want? I haven’t even unpacked yet, and I still have work to do tonight."

At some point, even talking to me had become a chore for him. He was always on edge, as if I’d ask him for money to cover our daughter’s piano lessons.

I sighed and handed him the freshly printed divorce papers.

"Zack, let’s get a divorce."