The book my husband left on the nightstand was never meant for me. But one day, while cleaning, I accidentally knocked it over. Out slipped half of a photograph of my mother. I instantly recognized it as a piece cut out from our family portrait. On the back was a deep pink lipstick print, a shade my mother often wore. My heart skipped a beat.

During a Thanksgiving picnic in the hills, a wildfire suddenly surrounded my mother and me. Nicolas, my husband, charged into the flames to rescue my mom first, without sparing a glance at me. When I regained consciousness, I asked for a divorce.

Nicolas was stunned. "You want to divorce me just because I rescued your mother first?" he stammered.

I nodded firmly.

My mother rushed into the hospital room, kneeling beside my bed, her tears streaming down as she clasped my hand, pleading desperately. "Eliana, don't be mad at Nicolas because of me. It's all my fault. I'll do anything if it means you won't divorce him."

I was unmoved. "Then go ahead."

Family members present began to accuse me, calling me ungrateful and a burden, even the nurses passing by turned their backs on me with disdain.

Nicolas tried to calm the relatives, his voice breaking as he shouted at me: "Eliana, are you even human? That's your mother!"

"Was it wrong to save her?"

I responded with a cold smile. "Yes, it was wrong!"

...

When I received the divorce papers, Nicolas stormed into my hospital room.

"Eliana, even a tantrum has its limits! Your mother almost died in that fire, and now she's hospitalized because she fainted after you proposed a divorce. Do you feel any guilt?"

I looked at him calmly, staying silent.

Seeing me quiet, Nicolas' expression softened slightly. "I get that you’re upset I didn’t rescue you first, but she's your mom. She's heartbroken because of you, refusing to eat until you forgive her."

"You need to come with me and apologize."

I idly scrolled through my phone, posting on Instagram, celebrating my soon-to-be single life. Only then did I look up and smile. "Her hunger strike is her choice. I'm not her chef. You should look at what she's eating, not at me."

Nicolas was left bewildered, stood silently for a while before shaking with anger and storming out of the room, frustrated.

Later that day, as I prepared to be discharged, family members surrounded me, unleashing a torrent of reproaches.

"You’re truly an ungrateful daughter! She loved you for nothing!"

"A disgrace dressed as a person! Your husband must be cursed to have married someone so hard-hearted!"

"Divorcing over this incident, how shameful you are!"

I listened to their criticism, indifferent until my patience wore thin. "Can you move aside? I need to get discharged."

Just then, Nicolas walked over with the payment receipt. Seeing me, he spoke softly, "Eliana, your mother misses you. Could you go and see her?"

I remained adamant. "Sign the divorce papers."

Nicolas' eyes watered. "In the moment of crisis, I could only reach your mother first. If that's troubling, I apologize, okay?"

He pleaded with hopeful eyes, "Just go see your mom, she hasn't even had water since yesterday. Even a quick visit."

Before I could decline, my relatives guided me to my mother's bedside.

Her eyes brightened briefly upon my arrival, but quickly turned wary. She spoke timidly, "Eliana, don’t be upset with me. I'll apologize; please don't divorce Nicolas."

Saying this, she struggled to her feet, then fell on her knees before me with a thud.

The person continued to bow deeply in front of me, murmuring "I'm sorry" and "I was wrong" over and over. I stood still, unmoved. Nicolas quickly stepped in and tried to stop my mom.

“Eliana Walker, do you even have a conscience?” he demanded.

“Your mom is on her knees, and you don’t even flinch. She bows to you, and you just accept it. Aren’t you afraid of karma?”

I looked at my mom with indifference and said coldly, “Did I ask her to kneel?”

“If you really can’t stand me, just sign the divorce papers already.”

Nicolas glared at me angrily, unable to find words for a long time. Just then, my dad stormed in and slapped me without hesitation.

“How could I have such an ungrateful daughter!”

“For such a trivial matter, you have to go so far as to get a divorce?!”

“If you still consider me your father, pack your things and come home. Stop embarrassing yourself out there.”

I pressed a hand to my stinging cheek, my voice as cold as ice, “Then I guess I can consider not having you as my father.”

“Ungrateful child! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” My dad clutched his chest, his finger trembling as he pointed accusingly at me.

I stayed expressionless.

“No matter what, I’m going through with this divorce!”

Some relatives, seeing this, couldn’t stand it and rushed at me, hitting and kicking.

“This really is a worthless piece of trash!”

“This heartless creature, she doesn’t even acknowledge her parents. Today, I’m going to cripple her!”

My mom rushed forward, trying to pull them away but to no avail. So she could only kneel and plead tearfully for them to leave me alone.

“Don’t hit my daughter, I beg you.”

“Hit me instead. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault!”

Nicolas’s eyes reddened as he opened his arms to shield me, pleading on my behalf.

“Aunties, please don’t hit Eliana. She’s just confused right now.”

“I believe once she calms down, she won’t continue causing a scene. Please let her go.”

Out of respect for my mom and Nicolas, the blows stopped. I felt no gratitude. Instead, I pushed him away in disgust, “Just sign the divorce papers already.”

Nicolas paused, his eyes red with anger.

“What do you want me to do? Is it really necessary to divorce over this minor issue?”

The aunties, momentarily pacified, were incensed again by my words. They rushed to drag me out by my hair. I gasped in pain but couldn’t break free, left to be dragged from the hospital room. Along the way, many people stopped to stare.

The aunties shouted as they dragged me along.

“Everyone, come see! This is the most famous Ph.D. from Oxford University, yet she’s nothing but human garbage!”

“She’s incredibly ungrateful! Her mother and husband treated her well, yet just because her husband chose to save his mother during a fire, she demands a divorce!”

“Let's decide for ourselves—can this kind of woman even call herself human?!”

Hearing this, the onlookers also began to hurl insults at me. Even small children, spurred on by adults, started throwing trash at me.

“Beat the bad woman!” Amidst the harsh words, someone pushed me, and I passed out.

When I awoke, I discovered that a video of me being dragged had been posted online. Many internet users quickly found my personal account to hurl insults and personal attacks. Worse, they started causing trouble at both my alma mater and workplace, even throwing animal blood there.

My university promptly expelled me, and my company announced my dismissal, stating they would never hire me again.

Several former colleagues, once close friends, stood by my bedside now.

“Eliana, what were you thinking? You caused a divorce over selfish reasons. You’re almost thirty, not some naïve young girl!”

“Hmph, some people just pretend all the time, and now they don’t even bother to hide it.”

“Maybe there’s some incredible secret, so she’s causing a divorce to cover it up?”

I only lowered my gaze, idly playing with my fingers, unmoved. My colleagues, seeing this, rolled their eyes in frustration.

“Do you really think you’re anything special? Even your alma mater expelled you!”

“How did a woman like you even survive this long? Back in the day, ungrateful daughters like you would face severe consequences!”

Nicolas burst in then, using his body to shield me from them, stating firmly, “Please don’t treat my wife this way; she’s treated me well before.”

“Please don’t make baseless remarks about my wife.”

Finishing his words, Nicolas turned carefully to me, “Eliana, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, I went to make a payment just now. I promise next time when you wake up, I’ll be the first person you see.”

My gaze was icy. “Nicolas, I want a divorce.”

Nicolas looked at me with eyes full of sorrow: “Honey, don’t say such things, please?”

“I’ll change whatever you’re unhappy with.”