Chapter 2
Laura’s tear–soaked face was buried in my chest.
“Is it because Daddy doesn’t want me? I didn’t want to fight. I held it in when they called me a bastard. But then they started cursing you… Molly just wanted to protect me, but they threw rocks at her…”
“It’s not your fault, Laura.”
I wiped her tears. “He’s not a good dad. That’s why we’re leaving.”
Laura nodded, half–understanding.
“I’m not happy here. So you’re coming with me.
“Okay?”
Even a five–year–old could see it. So why couldn’t Matthew?
Because he simply didn’t care.
By the time he got home, I was already in bed.
He turned on the light and paused. “Didn’t wait up for me?”
Still groggy, I saw him toss a card from a ragdoll cattery onto the bed.
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He spoke casually. “Molly lived a long life. Sure, it was a sad death, but it was just a stray with no pedigree.
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“I’ve reserved the most expensive, gentle purebred cat. You and Laura will love it. You’ll forget Molly in no time.”
Cas
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I stared at him, stunned.
Seven years ago, we skipped class, soaked in the rain, cradling that tiny Molly.
Back then, Matthew’s eyes were red when he said, “Shannon, let’s take care of her forever, okay?”
But now, he dismissed Molly’s life with a bloodline.
My heart turned to ice.
So what was an obedient me worth in his eyes?
When he came out of the shower, his warm body pressed against mine.
I pulled away.
He was caught off guard. His face darkened.
“You’re still mad?”
In five years of marriage, I’d never refused him.
I even liked it when he pressed me against the window and kept going, even when I sobbed until my voice broke.
It felt as if only his warmth could prove that he still loved me.
But now, my body, like my heart, was cold. Still
I pushed Matthew away.
The tension between us vanished, replaced by his simmering anger.
“Raising a disrespectful kid is your failure! I haven’t even blamed you for that! Aside from not being titled Mrs. Hartoff, how is Tiff not better than
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you? She’s a top university grad, young, pretty, helps me with business dinners, and knows how to please me in bed!
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“Let me tell you–she’s pregnant. That’s why I took you off birth control. If you still can’t get pregnant, don’t blame me!”
My temples throbbed.
Grandma had once told me, gently but firmly, “A man like Matthew, who doesn’t ask for divorce and still tries to coax you–he’s already one of the good ones.
“Are you really going to hand over a life of luxury to another woman? The more kids you have, the more secure your place as Mrs. Hartoff.
“If nothing else, think about Laura. Can you bear to see her abused by a stepmother?”
For Laura, I buried my pride and fought with my body.
But I never imagined that eight miscarriages in five years were ordered by Matthew himself.
He allowed the rumors to spread that I was promiscuous and that I had ruined my own womb. Just to teach me a lesson.
And now he dared say it to my face like it was nothing?
I gave a soft laugh.
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Then, calmly pulled out the divorce papers and handed them to him.
“Matthew, let’s get divorced.”
I thought he’d be pleased by how reasonable I was.
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But after a moment of shock, he sneered. “I hate people who try to threaten me!”
Like he was saying, “You? Give up the daughter you love like your life? Don’t make me laugh.”
I didn’t explain and just quietly pointed at the custody clause.
After a pause, Matthew laughed as if he’d just seen the funniest joke in the world.
Then he signed his name, grabbed my hand, and dragged me to the courthouse.
“Shannon, 30 days of cooling–off. Plenty of time for you to regret this.”
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