Won the Jackpot, Lost My Cheating Wife

"See you at the courthouse entrance tomorrow morning at 9:00 am. Whoever doesn't show up is a coward," I said.

My wife, Celia Lynch, froze for a moment, clearly not expecting me to agree so readily.

In her opinion, a loser like me, who ran a tiny lottery shop and scraped by on hard-earned money every month, should have dropped to my knees and cried pitifully the moment I heard her bring up divorce.

Celia's mother, Meryl Unwin, spat at my feet and mocked, "Stop trying to act tough. Do you think you can shake us off just by agreeing to divorce?"

She took out a piece of paper and a pen from beneath the coffee table.

Meryl went on, "Sign this debt assumption agreement. Put it in black and white that you, Zac Lorenz, are the one who incurred the gambling debt of 100 million dollars. State clearly that it has absolutely nothing to do with Celia!"

I glanced at the document and found it ridiculous.

Celia's useless bum of a younger brother, Timmy Lynch, loafed around all day. He somehow got involved in some illegal overseas betting. To make matters worse, he mindlessly placed a 50-million bet on a near-impossible outcome—that Sharderm would defeat Acontia, contrary to expectations.

Obviously, he lost and racked up a huge debt. And when the loan sharks had come knocking, Celia and Meryl shamelessly expected me to take the fall for everything.

I crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the trash can in one swift move while retorting, "The one who worked up a debt is Timmy. Go ask him to settle it. If you want a divorce, fine. But if you think I'm taking the blame, dream on."

Celia's expression became contorted with rage. She rushed over in a few quick steps and dug her manicured nails hard into my arm.

She seethed, "Do you have no shame at all? Timmy is a level-headed and sensible person. How could he possibly get involved with underground betting? You're the one running a lottery shop. You spend your time around gamblers all day long! You must've embezzled money to gamble yourself!

"Now that you've lost 100 million dollars, you want to drag our whole family down with you, is that it?"

I looked coldly at her hysterical expression.

In our three years of marriage, I had gotten up early and worked until late hours every single day at that tiny lottery shop that was barely 200 square feet. Every cent I earned went straight into her hands.

And what did she do? She had used my hard-earned money to buy luxury goods for Edwin Grant. Now, she was even pregnant with his baby.

I slowly pried her fingers off my arm.

Then I spoke in a tone so calm that even I was surprised. "Go verify with Timmy whether he is truly as sensible as you think. As for the divorce, I'll gladly fulfill your wish to be with Edwin."

Seeing that I refused to sign, Meryl stormed into the bedroom and started smashing things like a crazy woman.

She screeched, "You ungrateful bastard! You've been living off us, and now you want to walk away just like that? So you won't sign, huh? In that case, I'll go make a scene at your crappy shop today! Let's see how you'll continue to do business after that!"

She grabbed her Hermès bag and headed straight for the door.

Celia followed closely behind, sneering with a contemptuous expression. "Trash like you who toil at the bottom of society can only ever be a pathetic owner of that dump of a shop. Once Edwin gets here, let's see if you can still act so tough!"

With that, they stormed out of the apartment.

I stood in the wrecked living room and took a deep breath.

Just then, the phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a confirmation text from the Lottery Center. They reminded me to hold on to the lottery ticket that had won 120 million dollars and to go to the city center as soon as possible to claim the prize.

I touched the slip of paper hidden in my inner pocket.

Since they were so eager to seal their doomed fate, I might as well help them along. I locked the door and took a cab straight to my lottery shop.

The moment I reached the street corner, I heard shouting and cursing.

Meryl stood in front of my shop holding a megaphone and speaking loudly into it. "Come take a look, everyone! The owner of this shop, Zac Lorenz, is a gambling addict who embezzled money to take part in illegal betting! He owes the loan sharks 100 million dollars! Now, he's dragging his wife and child down with him!"

My regular customers, who had been inside checking the number charts, were all stunned. They gathered at the entrance, pointing and whispering.

Celia stood off to the side with reddened eyes. She was livestreaming with her phone.

In a pitiful voice, she said to the screen, "Guys, this is the shop owned by my heartless husband. I'd rather leave this marriage with nothing than stay with him. Ladies, please be a better judge of character and never marry a gambler like him."

I pushed through the crowd and strode into the shop.

When Meryl saw me, she behaved even more unreasonably instead of toning down. She grabbed a lucky cat ornament from the counter and smashed it viciously at the television on the wall.

The screen shattered instantly with a loud crash.

"The TV you just destroyed was worth 800 dollars. I'll be calling the police and demanding full compensation," I said coldly.