Chapter 2

Brandon froze when he saw the bank statements.

Then, he slammed his fist on the table and jumped up, red-faced with rage.

"You went through my phone?! Chloe, do you have any concept of personal privacy?!"

"You blew our marital assets buying luxury gifts for another woman, and you want to lecture me on privacy?"

Brandon took a deep breath, trying to bury his guilt under aggressive entitlement.

"Nicole's husband was abusive to her! I was just helping her out!"

"I only broke up with her back then because of you! What's wrong with me making it up to her now?"

I laughed out loud. It was truly pathetic.

"Brandon, are you suffering from memory loss? She dumped you back then because you were broke. What did that have to do with me?"

"The only reason you married me was because I never asked you for a dime, and I was stupid enough to pay your way through life."

Hit right where it hurt, Brandon's face turned pale, then green.

Seeing her son cornered, Martha immediately resorted to her signature drama.

She threw herself onto the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing at the top of her lungs.

"What a curse! My poor son works himself to the bone to provide, and you're digging through his accounts like a vulture!"

"So what if a man spends a little money on business contacts?! You heartless monster, you're trying to drive him into an early grave!"

I didn't even look at her.

"I don't have money. And even if I did, you wouldn't see a dime."

"When you die, my life still has to go on. I'm not drowning myself in debt for a corpse."

Brandon looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel.

"How dare you curse me to die!"

Just then, the front door clicked open. Our twelve-year-old daughter, Emma, walked in with her backpack.

She froze, shocked by the chaos in the living room.

Martha scrambled up immediately, grabbing her granddaughter and sobbing, "Emma, look at your mother! Your father has terminal cancer, and she's refusing to pay for his treatment! She's stealing our money and running away!"

Emma dropped her bag. Seeing Brandon looking haggard and pale, her eyes welled with tears.

She turned to me, her eyes filled with betrayal and judgment.

"Mom, how can you be so selfish?"

"Dad has cancer, and all you care about is money! My friends' parents would donate plasma or sell everything to save family! Why are you so heartless?!"

My hand rested on the bedroom doorknob. I looked at the daughter I had carried for nine months, the child I worked three jobs to put through private school in my past life.

In that past life, she had looked at me with this exact same disgust, accusing me of driving her loving father to his death and humiliating her in front of her friends.

"He's your father. If you want to save him, go get a shift at McDonald's and pay for his chemo yourself."

I opened the bedroom door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me.

Outside, the sounds of Brandon banging on the door and Emma sobbing echoed through the hallway.

I tuned it all out, opened my laptop, and began drafting the divorce petition.