Chapter 4

My words left Emily completely speechless, and she couldn't find anything to say for quite a while.

After a bit, Emily grabbed her phone and called Richard. "Dad, can you wire me some cash? I want to go out for a fancy dinner.

"Helen is totally losing it. I don't know what's gotten into her. Not only did she skip cooking, but she ordered some tasty takeout and didn't bother to get me any. Now she's saying she won't take care of me ever again.

"Wait, really? Will you be back soon? That's awesome. I'll be here waiting for you, Dad."

She hung up, looking all smug as she bragged to me. "Dad landed, and he'll be home soon. He said he's bringing me something yummy.

"Look at how generous my dad is, and then there's you. Why did Dad bother marrying you?

"You're past your prime, working that crappy job that barely pays, always dressed like a mess. The cleaning lady's got it better than you."

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

My job used to keep me slammed, working late into the evening, sometimes until seven or eight o'clock, but at least the paycheck was good.

After Emily was born, I asked the company to let me take a position with shorter hours and way less pay, so I could get home early every day and cook dinner for her.

I had been doing this for more than ten years, ever since she first started kindergarten.

But to Emily, all the things I had given up for her were worth nothing at all.

I gave a faint smile, shook my head, and didn't say anything back. Instead, I quietly ate my meal.

I hadn't eaten alone in ages. Strangely enough, it felt oddly refreshing.

By the time I was almost done eating, Emily was so hungry that her stomach was practically glued to her back. That was when Richard finally came home, dragging his suitcase behind him.

Emily shot across the room and threw her arms around her favorite person in the world, her dad. "Dad, you're back. Helen must've lost her mind. She wouldn't let me eat. I'm literally starving."

Richard shot me a look full of disgust, then ruffled Emily's hair. "Emily, sorry you had to put up with that. Ignore her. Come on, let's eat.

"I took a detour on my way home to pick up your favorite. It's ravioli. Take your time and enjoy it."

With that, he set a plate of ravioli on the table. It cost a few bucks.

Emily squealed, "Wow, thanks, Dad. You're my favorite."

I almost burst out laughing.

He kept talking about how he went out of his way, but honestly, he grabbed it from the corner store downstairs.

Richard was so tight-fisted. He never spent a dime on Emily or me.

But for his mistress, he'd shower her with designer clothes, bags, and makeup, and buy her cars worth tens of thousands without batting an eye.

Whenever he spent a little on Emily, he'd make a big deal out of it, acting like every dollar was worth a hundred.

Emily was so easily moved. Every time Richard did something for her, she'd get all teary-eyed and grateful.

For example, on her sixteenth birthday, Richard bought her an in-game skin for 25 bucks.

He said he knew she loved that game and spent forever picking out the perfect skin. Emily was so thrilled she nearly bounced out of her chair, repeating, "Dad, you're the best."

But when I gave her a brand-new piano worth 30 grand, she didn't bother to look at it. All she did was complain that I was always forcing her to play.

While Emily was busy scarfing down her ravioli, I pulled Richard aside to the coffee table.

He shot me an irritated look. "What do you want? I haven't unpacked yet, and I've got work tonight."

I honestly couldn't remember when he started acting so impatient with me, as if he thought I'd hit him up for Emily's piano fees every single time we talked.

I let out a sigh and handed him the divorce papers I'd printed. "Richard, let's get divorced."