Seeing her smug, triumphant face, I couldn’t help but smile. “Beg for your forgiveness?”
I walked toward her. “Are you even worthy?”
don’t beg for my forgiveness, this isn’t
20.17
Chapter 1
“You want money?” I said, enunciating every word. “There is no money.”
“But if you want, you can ask my dad.”
2017
Before I left my apartment, I’d made a call. If she wanted a public spectacle, then I was going to make sure everyone knew the whole story. My mom might be a pushover, but I’m not. The day I found out Sharon destroyed my parents‘ marriage, she became
my lifelong enemy.
And I never go into a fight unprepared.
I pulled out my own phone, the screen already on a video call, and aimed it at Sharon. I looked at the screen and spoke to my best
friend on the other end. “Where’s my dad?”
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
2018 (8)
2
This morning, Sharon had taken my dad’s phone, claiming there was an issue at her son’s school. That’s how she was able to call and impersonate him earlier.
My relationship with my dad has been lukewarm for years, but he’s had enough of a conscience to never miss a child support pay-
ment. He’d sent me an extra thousand dollars this month because I’d won a national competition and earned a full–ride scholarship
to Yale. He was proud, wanted to show off, and sent me the bonus as a celebratory gift. That was the “extra money” Sharon had
latched onto.
When Sharon saw the background of my video cali–my dad’s office–her face went pale. “You little bastard!” she shrieked. “You
wouldn’t dare!”
“Hang up right now!” She lunged for my phone, but I was faster, dodging her easily. The camera swung around to my dad, Robert,
who was now on screen.
His face was a thundercloud. “What is going on?” he demanded.
Sharon froze like a chicken with its neck caught. Her eyes bulged, but no sound came out.
I’m
“I’m on my way there now,” my dad said, his voice grim. “Stop this nonsense.”
The call ended.
Seeing Sharon’s deflated expression was deeply satisfying. I couldn’t resist adding, “By the way, I called the police before I came
here. You might want to think about your next move.”
Realizing I’d not only brought my dad into it but also the police, Sharon’s eyes turned blood–red. She completely snapped, launching
herself at me and grabbing my throat.
t
h
“You little bitch!” she screamed. “You think you can play games with me? I’ll kill you!”
7
I was caught off guard, my hands flying up to claw at her hair, but before I could, one of the “onlookers” Sharon had brought with her
grabbed my wrists. “You cheap little tramp, playing dirty tricks!” she yelled.
The woman then turned to the crowd. “See? Now you all understand! This is how these little sluts bully the rightful wife! Men are all
idiots who think with their dicks! They’ll never protect their own wives!”
Hearing this, Sharon let out a theatrical wail. “My life is so miserable!” she sobbed. “Please, everyone, help me! If you stand by and do nothing today, what’s to stop a mistress from destroying your family tomorrow?”
In our society, there’s nothing people hate more than a home–wrecker. They knew how easily a painstakingly built family could be destroyed by an intruder.
It worked. Sharon’s crocodile tears won their sympathy, and the crowd erupted in a chorus of curses, calling my mother and me
shameless.
Choking me wasn’t enough for Sharon. Seeing my arms pinned, she started slapping me, back and forth across the face. “You wor-
thless bitch! I’ll beat you to death!”
