Chapter 4

A resounding slap landed hard on my face.

Samson glared at me fiercely, his eyes filled with resentment for my exposing him like that.

"You're talking absolute bullshit! You're only making a fuss because you can't bear to see me doing so well without you!"

I stumbled from the slap, and Janice immediately burst into tears in my arms.

"Mommy!"

Bernice and Eunice screamed in unison as they ran up to me and pushed Samson out of the way, hammering their tiny fists on him.

"You're a bad daddy! You can't hit Mommy! Bad Daddy!"

A fleeting look of panic and regret crossed Samson's eyes for just a second, but it was quickly replaced with deeper frustration and embarrassment.

"You're being ridiculous!"

After that, he turned on his heels, shoved Maya and Patricia out of the way, and rushed out the door.

Maya clicked her tongue at me. "Hah. You brought this on yourself."

She pursed her lips together and hooked her arm around Patricia, who was still a little stunned.

"Let's go, Mom. The vibes in this place are horrible. Don't let it get to you, or you'll fall sick. I'm sure that Sam's gone back to my place."

Patricia then glared at me, spat on the floor, and turned to leave with Maya.

After the commotion was finally over, I slowly crouched over on the ground and pulled my trembling daughters into my arms.

Just then, I received a text message notification from Fred.

"The lawsuit has been submitted to the court."

I smiled in relief, gently patting my daughters' backs as I said firmly, "It's alright, girls. Don't cry anymore. I will take you all away with me.

"We'll have a new home soon, and there'll be no more fighting or shouting or slapping. Just your mommy who loves you very much."

…

The next afternoon, Samson returned to the house with a rarely-seen gift box in his hands.

He unlocked the door and walked in.

The expected aroma of dinner didn't waft to his senses. He also didn't hear his daughters excitedly chattering or running up to him for hugs.

"Alexa?"

There was no response.

He frowned and changed into his indoor slippers before walking in.

The living room had been tidied up very neatly without a single speck of dust. A sudden wave of uneasiness washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by that of his usual impatience and annoyance.

He first pushed the bedroom door open and instinctively opened the wardrobe doors.

It was empty.

It wasn't just that a few articles of clothing were missing. Instead, the entire wardrobe had been emptied out.

Only a handful of his dress shirts and suits were still hung up on hangers. Even the other seasonal clothes stashed away in the corner had all disappeared.

Samson was completely taken aback.

He turned and rushed into the girls' bedroom.

Similarly, the blankets on the beds were gone, and the doodles and drawings that used to be hung all over the walls were gone, too.

A sudden wave of panic gripped him, piercing right into his chest.

He went back to the living room and realized for the first time that the house was so big and empty without anyone else there. It had never been like this in the past ten years.

It used to be filled with children's laughter, the sound of my footsteps, the pleasant aroma of food in the air, and the warm presence of people.

Even if he returned home in the dead of the night, or we gave each other the cold shoulder, at the very least, it was still a lively home. But now, it was dead.

He finally realized that I had really left him this time and taken the kids with me.

"Damn it! How dare she! She doesn't have a penny to her name. What does she think, that she and the kids will live on without me? They won't survive!

"Yeah, there's no way she actually left me! She can't afford to leave me! She's just throwing a tantrum as always!"

He kept mumbling to himself as he tried to call my number, but kept getting a busy signal instead.

The sound of bells and carolers drifted in from the streets. He slammed down the gift box in anger, striking the letter I had left him on the coffee table.

His heart jerked in his chest as he practically dashed to the table and snatched up the envelope.

There was only a single piece of paper inside, with a few cold lines written on it.

"My lawyer will be in contact with you. All matters concerning the divorce, child custody, division of marital property, and recovery of improperly disposed marital assets between you and Ms. Maya Taylors will be handled by him.

"Don't try to contact me. Regards, Alexa Cohen."