Chapter 2

Those two slaps threw everyone off. Clutching his face, Vincent's eyes were filled with disbelief. After all, in the last five years, I had never once defied him.

He had gotten used to me waking up at 3:00 am to brew soup for him, used to every inch of the house being kept spotless, used to my obedience, tolerance, and endless patience. It had never occurred to him that I would slap him in front of so many people.

Before he could part his lips, Elowen let out a shriek and buried her face in his chest, wailing at the top of her lungs, "Vince, she slapped me! She's the homewrecker; how dare she slap me, your girlfriend? Is there any woman in this world more shameless than her?"

Her classmates and the netizens, who were livestreaming the scene, instantly erupted.

"Did you all see that? This homewrecker's been shamelessly harassing Chief Instructor Bennett, and now, she's gone crazy for him!"

"Do you have any idea how good Chief Instructor Bennett is to Ellie? Last month, when she cut her finger during a medical experiment, he rushed back from the military base that very night to be with her! What about you? Do you honestly think you're worthy of him?"

Last month? I shuddered.

On the 15th of last month, I had a high fever of 102.56°F. I was so delirious I could barely think straight, and I called him 17 times.

Every single call gave me the same response. "The number you have dialed is currently on another call."

In the end, he only sent me one text. "I'm in closed training. Don't bother me."

I had to support myself against the wall just to get downstairs, and I'd spent the entire night alone, hooked up to an IV drip in the emergency room at 2:00 am. As it turned out, he wasn't in closed-off training that night; he was busy accompanying another woman while she got a single finger bandaged.

The young lady with the curly hair didn't think that was enough; she continued to twist the knife in my heart. "The month before last, Chief Instructor Bennett spent several months' worth of bonuses just to buy Ellie a limited-edition handbag. Now that's what you call true love! So, a homewrecker like you should get lost!"

Bonuses. A metallic tang rose in my throat.

During those months, he had told me his salary had been cut and asked me to tighten the household budget. I had even used the very last of my personal savings to buy the nutritional supplements his father needed while he was hospitalized.

As it turned out, all of his money had been spent on this woman.

The livestream comments hastily scrolled by.

"This homewrecker looks pretty old. No wonder she seduced a younger instructor."

"How does a parasite like her still have the nerve to slap someone? Get out of their house already!"

"My heart goes out to Ellie. Girl, you deserve someone better!"

Every single comment was like a knife carving into my heart.

Vincent, however, seemed unfazed. In fact, he leaned into my ear and lowered his voice. "Helena, I'm begging you, just tell the cameras you're the one who's been pestering me and don't expose Ellie as the homewrecker. Once this blows over, I'll buy you that bag you've always wanted, okay? Please don't ruin my future!"

I chuckled. He actually wanted me—his lawfully wedded wife—to admit to the internet that I was a mistress just to preserve his and that woman's reputations.

Divorce. It took only a second for that thought to become a decision. I lowered my head and let out a low chuckle, one so desolate it even made my own heart ache.

However, that only served to make the netizens even more indignant. In the blink of an eye, countless cameras were shoved in my face, their flashes nearly blinding me. The comment section exploded with a barrage of demands to doxx the homewrecker and cyberbully this parasite.

Without sparing Vincent another glance, I picked up my phone and called my lawyer.

Elowen caught on and sneered, folding her arms across her chest. "Oh, are you calling for backup? Go ahead! Vince is a chief instructor. He knows all the top brass. What can a jobless housewife with no background like you possibly do?"

I stiffened. Elowen was right. What could a housewife with no background possibly do?

So, I swiped away my lawyer's number and scrolled to the very bottom of my contacts, dialing a number I hadn't touched in five years. The moment the call connected, I uttered a word that felt utterly foreign to my lips. "Dad—"