Chapter 1
"Fine, I'll walk away with nothing," I said.
The living room went silent for a second.
My mother-in-law, Linda Brown, and my husband, Michael Brown, were both stunned. Even Michael's mistress, Wanda White, sitting in the corner, was stunned.
I put down my cup and stood up. "You can keep the house. I don't want a thing."
Michael opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something.
I smiled. "Give me three days to pack up. Three days later, the house is all yours."
I turned and went upstairs.
Linda's voice came from behind me. "She... She really agreed?"
I didn't look back.
Three days later, they'd realize that the house never belonged to them in the first place.
*****
It all started three days ago.
That day, I worked overtime until 9 p.m. and dragged myself home, dead tired.
When I opened the door, the living room was lit.
Three people were sitting on the couch.
Michael, Linda, and a young woman.
The woman looked about twenty-five or twenty-six, wearing a white dress with her hand resting on her belly.
At first, I thought she was one of our relatives.
Then I saw Michael's face.
He didn't look at me, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Susan, you're back," Linda said, standing up with a complicated look on her face. "Sit down. We need to talk."
I put down my bag and sat on the armchair. "This is..."
"This is Wanda White," Linda said. "She's Michael's... friend."
Wanda looked up and glanced at me.
That look told me everything.
"She's pregnant," Linda said, her voice trembling. "Three months along."
The room was silent for a few seconds.
I could hear my heartbeat—steady, not even a little faster.
That was weird. I should be angry, falling apart, and crying. But I felt nothing.
"Susan," Michael finally spoke, his voice low. "I know this hurts you a lot, but..."
"But what?" I asked.
He looked up at me with guilt in his eyes, but mostly, he was begging me.
"But Wanda is pregnant," he said. "I can't leave her alone."
I stayed silent.
Linda cut in, "Susan, I know Michael was wrong. But things are already like this, and the baby didn't do anything wrong."
"So?" I said.
"So..." Linda took a deep breath. "You two have been married for five years and still don't have a kid. I never pushed you, right? I never blamed you, not once."
She paused. "Now Wanda's pregnant, and it's a boy. This is the Brown family's bloodline. Susan, can't you... be more generous?"
Generous? That word cut through me like a knife.
"You want me to be generous?" I asked.
"You guys can live together," Linda said. "This house has three bedrooms, plenty of space. You take the master bedroom, and Wanda will take the guest room.
"When the baby's born, you can raise it together. She's young and doesn't know much, so you can teach her. Just treat her like... a younger sister."
A younger sister? I almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous that sounded.
"Linda," I said, "do you even hear yourself right now?"
"I know this is asking a lot," Linda said, her tone softening a bit. "But think about it. If you go for a divorce, what do you get? Michael bought this house before you two got married, so it has nothing to do with you.
"You'll walk away with nothing, not even a roof over your head."
Linda looked at me with a hint of smugness in her eyes. "You've got no family to back you up. If you make a fuss, no one's going to support you. So you might as well stay. At least you'll still have a roof over your head."
Her words echoed in my mind: the house was bought before we got married, it had nothing to do with me, and I'd walk away with nothing.
I smiled. "Alright."
Linda was taken aback. "What?"
"I said, alright." I stood up. "I'll walk away with nothing. The house is all yours."
Michael looked up sharply. "Susan, you..."
"Give me three days to pack up," I said. "After that, do whatever you want with the place."
I turned and went upstairs.
As I reached the stairs, I heard Wanda call out behind me, "Thank you, Susan."
I didn't look back. No need to thank me.
They'd face the reality in three days.
That night, I didn't fall asleep.
I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Outside, the city lights flickered, and somewhere far away, cars rumbled by.
Michael didn't come upstairs.
He was probably with Wanda, keeping her company.
I thought back to five years ago. I was twenty-five, working as an accountant at a private firm. My salary wasn't much, just two thousand a month.
My parents died early, both gone in a car crash when I was nineteen.
All they left me was the demolition compensation—300 grand.
Back then, I'd just started working and didn't know a thing about managing money. That cash only sat in my bank account, earning a bit of interest.
Later, someone introduced me to Michael.
Michael was three years older than me and was working for a state-owned enterprise. It was a steady job, and he was not bad-looking.
His mom, Linda, was a retired factory worker. Her husband died young, and Michael was her only son.
On our first date, Linda sized me up from head to toe. "I heard your parents passed away?"
I said, "Yes."
"Do you have any siblings?"
"No."
"Do you own a house?"
"No."
Linda's eyes dimmed for a moment, but then brightened. "So, how much savings do you have?"
I knew nothing back then. I thought that was how these arranged dates went—people always wanted to know what you brought to the table.
"About 300 grand," I replied.
Linda's eyes sparkled.
After that, Michael became extra attentive.
He took me out, watched movies with me, and brought me gifts.
Three months later, he proposed. "Susan, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
I believed him.