Chapter 3

Fragments of my memories began playing out on the big screen.

"You must be tired, dear. I've heated up some milk for you. You should drink it while it's warm."

In the memory, I was facing the computer in my study. When I saw that Charlene was here, I hurriedly motioned for her to leave. My expression probably looked a little scary.

The viewers started to flood my view with comments.

"What's with this attitude? You're being so impatient with your wife when she went out of her way to bring you some warm milk late at night! How ungrateful!"

"If I were his wife, I'd have thrown the milk in his face."

I could tell that the audience's resentment toward me had increased.

After watching the memory, Aiden frowned and pronounced his verdict. "No scumbag behavior has been displayed in this instance. Hanson Quill is not guilty."

Viewer comments instantly started flooding in.

"There must be some mistake. How is this not considered scumbag behavior? He's showing his wife such a terrible attitude. Is the judge blind?"

"There isn't any manipulation going on behind the scenes, is there? This damned scumbag must have bribed the judge! I'm reporting this!"

The memory continued to play out on screen.

Charlene ignored my attempt to stop her and continued to walk in my direction.

She even muttered, "I've already heated it up twice. Drinking milk is good for your health. I don't care what you're doing right now. You'd better stop and drink it first!"

The senior executives on the call with me were giving me displeased looks. I hurriedly apologized to them and muted my microphone.

Then, I said helplessly, "Just place the milk here, dear. I'll drink it in a bit. I'm currently in the middle of a very important video conference involving a multi-million dollar project. I can't screw this up."

Even though I explained things patiently to Charlene, she started kicking up a fuss. "Hanson Quill! Every day, all you care about is money, money, and more money! Is it wrong for me to care about your health?

"I do the chores and cook our meals every day! And yet, I hoped you'd appreciate that I brought you a glass of milk. Am I delusional for thinking that?"

As she spoke, she knocked over the glass of milk, which spilled all over my computer.

I hurriedly tried to save my computer, but it was too late. The computer short-circuited and started to smoke.

The project was pretty much a lost cause. I glared at Charlene.

Not only was Charlene completely unrepentant, but she even put her hands on her waist and shouted self-righteously, "It's just a broken computer! Do you have to glare at me like that? I was truly blind to have married someone like you!"

She promptly left, slamming the door behind her.

"Like, am I the only one who thinks this woman's so-called concern feels really stifling? He already told her he was in the middle of an important meeting, and he was very patient with her. How does that make him a scumbag?"

"Hey, the viewer above me. You'd understand if you'd experienced being a housewife for several years. There are all sorts of expenses to juggle and a lot of unseen labor to handle. It's really frustrating work. Is it so difficult to get a word of thanks from one's husband?"

I sneered at the sight of the heated arguments going on in the comments.

This group of onlookers, who knew nothing about the actual situation, was actually trying to accuse others from their moral high ground.

Charlene, who was among the audience, probably noticed that there were people speaking up for her. She started wiping at her tears as if in great anguish.

"I was just concerned for my husband. I was afraid that the milk would be bad for his stomach if he had it cold. Those of you who've never experienced being a housewife won't understand my suffering. I work myself to the bone every day.

"I also don't have a job, so I can only reach out to my husband for money. Considering that I live dependent on someone else, I'm always very cautious with my behavior. I just don't want to be abandoned by my husband."

Charlene burst into tears as she spoke, which immediately elicited sympathy from the ignorant onlookers.

The large display was split into two. One side showed my memories while the other showed a live broadcast of the courtroom. As such, I could see Charlene's pretentious act, which made me feel sick to the stomach.

The viewers were still chatting actively in the comments.

"A woman still needs her own career in the end. Our husbands always feel like they're giving us a lot of money, but only we women know how much it costs to sustain a household."

"Exactly. If his wife is that tired, why not just hire a housekeeper?"

I smiled and watched Charlene guiltily avoid my gaze.

I then looked coldly toward the camera. "First off, I hand over almost all of my hundred-thousand-dollar salary to Charlene every month, including my year-end bonuses. All I keep on hand is money for cigarettes and transportation.

"Secondly, I did hire a housekeeper for the family. If you don't believe me, I can show you the receipts."

For a moment, the viewer comments stopped appearing, and nobody voiced any more accusatory remarks against me.

It was Charlene's turn to panic this time.

"A hundred thousand dollars is hardly a large sum! All I can buy with that is a single bag," she stammered evasively. "The housekeeper also doesn't do a thorough job, so I'm still forced to clean up after her."

"Even if what you said is true, what about the domestic violence you subjected me to? That certainly happened, didn't it?"