Bad Weatherman: My Wife Owns the Climate

Chad's POV

My wife, Shelly Fuller, picked up the disciplinary notices and paused. Then, she said with an amused smile, "Since it didn't snow today, you embarrassed yourself at the TV station. Is this why you're taking it out on me?"

"I said I'm serious. I want a divorce," I said with emphasis.

When she heard my unusual tone, her malicious smile gradually froze on her face. Even the housekeeper serving tea didn't dare move.

A few seconds later, Shelly broke the silence with a sneer. "Chad, I thought you were used to it by now. You don't want what happened three years ago to repeat itself, do you?"

I blankly recalled what happened three years ago.

On the large screens across Haddon, I was reporting that the weather would be clear throughout the city, reminding residents to apply sunscreen before going out. Yet, Shelly spent a fortune to arrange artificial rain just for a male escort at a nightclub.

Dark clouds gathered overhead, and I became the most pathetic weather presenter in Haddon. I was so badly scolded by my boss that I couldn't even face him. I even received the first disciplinary notice of my career.

That time, I made a huge scene. I stormed into the bar with a bottle in hand and smashed it over the male escort's head.

Shelly simply lounged on the sofa, quietly watching as I went ballistic.

When I learned that my mother, Helen Upton, who was on her way to comfort me, had been in a car accident and would be paralyzed for the rest of her life, I broke down and became hysterical.

Shelly calmly told me, "As my husband, you need to be patient. You didn't understand before, but sometimes, one lesson is all it takes for you to learn."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Everything that happened in the past made my heart bleed every day.

When she saw that I remained silent, she softened her tone and pointed at the piles of gift bags on the coffee table. "Good to see that you understand. The most expensive things in all of Haddon belong to you, the man of the Fuller family. What could you possibly be unhappy about?"

At her signal, the housekeeper opened up a bespoke tailcoat. I had every luxury watch and limited-edition supercar that men across the country were scrambling to get their hands on.

However, only I knew that this was compensation for her infidelity. If I wore them out in public, it would be no different from parading my humiliation for the whole city to see.

I scoffed and poured my coffee over the suit. Everyone around us gasped.

Shelly stared at the splattered stains on her clothes, completely losing her patience with me. "Chad Weston, that's enough!"

She splashed her hot drink all over me, instantly causing blisters on my skin.

I was in so much pain that I clenched my hands involuntarily.

Shelly's breath hitched, but the ruthlessness in her eyes didn't waver. "Anthony is an intern at your TV station. It's best if you can mentor him, but if you can't, I can still make him famous myself."

She looked over at my trophies, her eyes filled with warning. She had plenty of ways to force a man like me, who valued his achievements so much, into submission.

I swallowed my bitterness and said with a slight smile, "Fine."

A hint of surprise appeared in her eyes. Then, she was interrupted by a phone call. She softened her tone as she answered it, "Okay, wait for me."

She hung up the phone and strode away.

I watched her leave, the excitement in her eyes impossible to hide. My fists clenched at the sight, and I called Jennifer Voss, who was both my senior and my lawyer. I said, "Help me get a divorce, and I'll honor our five-year agreement."