Chapter 2 · The Wiser Wife's Revenge

Chapter 2

She gave a bitter shake of her head, the lines around her mouth pulling deeper. "When we divorced, Rose was afraid we'd still be tangled up, so she made David pay the full child support in one lump sum.

"Later, whenever David came to see Lily, Rose would come with him and stand downstairs, hurling insults loud enough for everyone to hear. I was afraid Lily would overhear, so I told him not to come anymore."

She paused. "Then they had a son. Lily hasn't seen her father since the fourth year after the divorce."

I didn't answer. My chest felt heavy, like a stone was pressing down on it.

"I was the one who insisted on the divorce," she said. "David didn't want it, so he made the property settlement difficult on purpose. I was desperate to get out, so I only took this apartment.

"But I never gave up on Lily's piano lessons. I held on until she was fourteen."

"And then?" My voice came out dry.

"Then I sold the house. The market had dropped. I lost over three hundred thousand."

My heart tightened. I almost didn't have to think before asking, "That money from the sale... it was for Lily's tuition, wasn't it?"

Her eyes reddened. "Dad was diagnosed with cancer."

I froze. My mind went blank for a moment.

My father, at this very moment, was perfectly healthy, still going to the park every morning to exercise.

"It was three years ago." She wiped the corner of her eye with her hand. "He knew I was stretched thin between work and raising Lily on my own, so he never mentioned a word about not feeling well.

"By the time we caught it, the cancer had already spread."

Something clamped down on my throat. I struggled to push out a single question. "And Dad... how is he now?"

"He passed away over a year ago."

The air left my lungs.

"The night Lily found out her grandfather was sick," she said, "she packed her violin into its case and told me she was done with lessons. She said the money should go toward treating him instead.

"I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. She hasn't touched that violin since."

So within just eight years of my walking out on that marriage, my daughter had abandoned her dream and my father was gone.

My chest tightened to the point of suffocation, pain gripping me like a vise.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the screen flickered and the call cut out.

Seconds later, a clip of video from an unknown number flashed on my screen.

When the image loaded, Rose's face hit me without warning.

She was lounging against David, her makeup immaculate, the corners of her eyes arched in a teasing lift, her smile both casual and bold.

David had one arm draped around her waist, his chin resting in the crook of her shoulder, his expression more at ease than I could remember ever seeing it.

"That wife of yours is exactly the bookish type I always pictured," Rose said, her tone dripping with mockery. "Stiff, dull, stuck in her ways. And she's actually going through with a divorce?"

David let out a low, lazy hum of agreement.

Rose let out a soft laugh. "Well, what are we supposed to do about that? I'm not about to marry you, and I've never wanted kids anyway.

"Family life and all its strings attached? No, thank you. I'm here for candlelight and champagne. Don't expect me to stick around for the grocery runs and utility bills."

She tapped her fingernail lightly against the back of David's hand. "Looks like somebody's about to lose his wife and his kid all because of little old me."

Before she could finish, David leaned down and kissed her.

The screen froze on that frame.

I sat there staring, my stomach churning so violently that I could feel the bile rising in my throat, dangerously close to spilling over.

When the screen went dark, I stayed in the blackness for a long time.

Once I'd gathered myself, the first thing I did was ask someone to look into Rose's background.

The reply came swiftly.

She was three years older than me, a pharmaceutical sales manager at a firm that collaborated with David's company.

She'd been in the industry for a decade, year after year ranking at the top of the regional sales chart, and was widely known among her peers for being both fiercely driven and exceptionally tough-skinned.

One of her favorite sayings, the one she seemed to toss out at every opportunity, went something like: "I've got money and looks. Why the hell would I go let a marriage wear me down?"

Her colleagues had taken to calling her "The Thorny Wild Rose."

Around the office, a number of the younger women looked up to her as someone who lived with clarity and conviction, utterly unbound by the expectations society tried to impose on her.

I had little doubt that she'd sent me that video deliberately.

Even if she had no intention of ever marrying David, that didn't stop her from savoring the sheer satisfaction of overshadowing me, the legitimate ex-wife, in every possible way.

Chapter 2

She paused. "Then they had a son. Lily hasn't seen her father since the fourth year after the divorce."

I didn't answer. My chest felt heavy, like a stone was pressing down on it.

"I was the one who insisted on the divorce," she said. "David didn't want it, so he made the property settlement difficult on purpose. I was desperate to get out, so I only took this apartment.

"But I never gave up on Lily's piano lessons. I held on until she was fourteen."

"And then?" My voice came out dry.

"Then I sold the house. The market had dropped. I lost over three hundred thousand."

My heart tightened. I almost didn't have to think before asking, "That money from the sale... it was for Lily's tuition, wasn't it?"

Her eyes reddened. "Dad was diagnosed with cancer."

I froze. My mind went blank for a moment.

My father, at this very moment, was perfectly healthy, still going to the park every morning to exercise.

"It was three years ago." She wiped the corner of her eye with her hand. "He knew I was stretched thin between work and raising Lily on my own, so he never mentioned a word about not feeling well.

"By the time we caught it, the cancer had already spread."

Something clamped down on my throat. I struggled to push out a single question. "And Dad... how is he now?"

"He passed away over a year ago."

The air left my lungs.

"The night Lily found out her grandfather was sick," she said, "she packed her violin into its case and told me she was done with lessons. She said the money should go toward treating him instead.

"I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. She hasn't touched that violin since."

So within just eight years of my walking out on that marriage, my daughter had abandoned her dream and my father was gone.

My chest tightened to the point of suffocation, pain gripping me like a vise.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the screen flickered and the call cut out.

Seconds later, a clip of video from an unknown number flashed on my screen.

When the image loaded, Rose's face hit me without warning.

She was lounging against David, her makeup immaculate, the corners of her eyes arched in a teasing lift, her smile both casual and bold.

David had one arm draped around her waist, his chin resting in the crook of her shoulder, his expression more at ease than I could remember ever seeing it.

"That wife of yours is exactly the bookish type I always pictured," Rose said, her tone dripping with mockery. "Stiff, dull, stuck in her ways. And she's actually going through with a divorce?"

David let out a low, lazy hum of agreement.

Rose let out a soft laugh. "Well, what are we supposed to do about that? I'm not about to marry you, and I've never wanted kids anyway.

"Family life and all its strings attached? No, thank you. I'm here for candlelight and champagne. Don't expect me to stick around for the grocery runs and utility bills."

She tapped her fingernail lightly against the back of David's hand. "Looks like somebody's about to lose his wife and his kid all because of little old me."

Before she could finish, David leaned down and kissed her.

The screen froze on that frame.

I sat there staring, my stomach churning so violently that I could feel the bile rising in my throat, dangerously close to spilling over.

When the screen went dark, I stayed in the blackness for a long time.

Once I'd gathered myself, the first thing I did was ask someone to look into Rose's background.

The reply came swiftly.

She was three years older than me, a pharmaceutical sales manager at a firm that collaborated with David's company.

One of her favorite sayings, the one she seemed to toss out at every opportunity, went something like: "I've got money and looks. Why the hell would I go let a marriage wear me down?"

Her colleagues had taken to calling her "The Thorny Wild Rose."

Around the office, a number of the younger women looked up to her as someone who lived with clarity and conviction, utterly unbound by the expectations society tried to impose on her.

I had little doubt that she'd sent me that video deliberately.

Even if she had no intention of ever marrying David, that didn't stop her from savoring the sheer satisfaction of overshadowing me, the legitimate ex-wife, in every possible way.