Chapter 3

"This kind of dress is for kids. Aren't you a bit old for this?" Landon scoffed. "And honestly, white just isn't your color. It makes you look bigger than you are."

I stared at the muddy footprint on the dress. Turns out, I didn't feel as bad about it as I expected.

"You bought this for me with your very first paycheck," I said.

Landon froze, his mouth opening and closing like he didn't know what to say.

I gave him a faint smile. "You're right. This dress is never going to get clean again. Let's just toss it."

With that, I took the dress, balled it up, and tossed it straight into the trash.

I packed up the rest of my clothes in the suitcase and made to leave.

Landon came running after me and grabbed my suitcase. "Hey, don't get mad. I'll just buy you a new one."

I looked up at him, my eyes cold and unreadable. "No need. We're getting divorced. Unless it's about divorce, there's no reason for us to see each other anymore."

Landon had been trying to placate me for ages.

But after hearing me say that, he finally lost his patience. He fixed me with a cold stare and warned, "Ophelia, think about it. You only make 1,000 a month.

"What man would want a woman with two kids, basically secondhand goods? I'm the only guy in this world who'd ever wanted you."

I looked at him calmly and shot back, "Landon, my first job was at a top company. I only had to leave because I got pregnant with Alma.

"Back then, you begged me not to get rid of the baby, said you'd support me.

"But what happened? As soon as Alma turned three and could go to kindergarten, you and your whole family pushed me out the door to start working again."

Landon's brows knitted, and he looked downright annoyed. "Seriously, you're dragging this up again? That was ages ago, aren't you tired of rehashing the same old stuff?

"The kids call you Mom, don't they? They're yours, aren't they? Why do you have to nitpick every little thing?"

My eyes brimmed with tears. All the hurt and anger twisted together inside me, stuck in my throat. I couldn't spit it out, couldn't swallow it down.

"You're the one who got everything out of this. What gives you the right to talk to me like that?" I shot back.

Landon's anger flared. He yelled, "What's that supposed to mean? I'm the one bringing in the big bucks here. Aren't I the one keeping you afloat?

"You're only worth 1,000 a month. Without me, this whole family would be out on the street."

When a guy wanted to win you over, it was all "I'll support you."

But once that so-called soulmate turned into just another stain, suddenly it was all "I'm the one who's been supporting you.

I sniffled. "Two years ago, I could've gotten promoted. You were the one who sabotaged the condom.

"And I got pregnant with our second child, and then swore you'd take care of me, crying and begging me not to leave."

"All I wanted was to build a life together, but now you see me as nothing more than used goods worth 1,000 a month?"

Landon ran a hand over his face, clearly frustrated, and gave the stool a hard kick. The stool went clattering to the floor, the noise harsh and jarring.

Landon demanded, "Why are you making such a scene?

"Did I ever shortchange you? You've got it easy, just a cushy job, whip up a few meals, watch the kids, and when they're down for the night, you get to kick back too.

"While I'm out there busting my ass, faking smiles for everyone, getting wasted with my boss until I'm sick. And you call that suffering? You're the one living in comfort."

'Seriously? He's tired?' I thought, my anger bubbling up. 'Whenever he gets worn out at work, he'll just come home and flop down.

'I'm the one who cooks, cleans, raises the kids, and takes care of his parents.

'Whenever he drinks himself sick, I'm the one who has to go get him. Clean up his vomit, bathe him, do his laundry, make him honey water. It's always me.'