My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life.
Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess.
It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me.
In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship.
On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing.
With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box.
"Go on, open your New Year's present."
The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor.
"It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?"
The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent.
The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was.
My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt.
"I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?"
Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor.
Everyone stared at me, stunned.
No one said another word.
On New Year's Eve in the third year of our marriage, the house was buzzing with life, relatives chatting and laughing.
My husband set a designer gift box with a gilded logo in front of me. The velvet case, tied with an elegant ribbon, looked expensive at a glance.
My heart skipped.
He didn't notice anything unusual.
"Honey, I specially ordered this custom piece for your New Year's gift. You'll look absolutely stunning in it."
As he spoke, he opened the box and lifted out a fitted dress with a cinched waist.
My mother-in-law spoke up, her tone edged with sourness.
"You've really forgotten your mother now that you have a wife. Ever since you married Sheila, she's the only one you see. You even put this much thought into buying her a dress. At this rate, you'll be wrapped around her finger for life."
My husband, Jayden Reese, just smiled indulgently.
"Mom, what are you saying? Sheila is my wife. If I'm not good to her, who should I be good to?"
The relatives chimed in at once, praising Jayden for being considerate, envying me for marrying so well. They said I must have earned this blessing in a past life—to have a husband who spoils me like a princess.
Their noisy chatter made my head throb.
I grabbed the gift box and slammed it onto the table.
With a loud bang, it tipped over.
The room fell noticeably quieter.
I looked up at my husband and asked, "Jayden, what is this supposed to mean?"
The smile on his face froze, then quickly shifted back to that gentle expression.
"Sheila, what's wrong? I just wanted to buy you a nice fitted dress. This custom piece suits you best..."
My second aunt, Camille Sanders, tugged at my arm, joining in.
"That's right, Sheila. Jayden went to so much trouble to have this custom-made. Why are you throwing a tantrum?"
"A tantrum?"
I pointed at the dress, my voice rising sharply as I stared at him.
"Take a good look yourself. Is this my size?"
The dress lay spread out on the floor. The waist was so narrow it could barely circle my arm—there wasn't even room to fit a fist through.
My eldest aunt, Lilian Sanders, frowned.
"Sheila dear, why are you being so picky? What if the size isn't right? It's the thought that counts. Clothes won't always fit perfectly—you can just have it altered."
Camille echoed her, her words laced with reproach.
"Exactly. It's Jayden's sincere effort. Even if it doesn't fit, you shouldn't criticize him like this in front of everyone."
Jayden's eyes reddened further. He reached down, trying to pick up the dress.
"Sheila, I'm sorry. I was too rushed and didn't check the size carefully. I'll go exchange it right away. Please don't be angry, okay?"
I looked at his aggrieved expression and felt nothing but biting irony.
"Rushed? We've been together for years, and you don't even know what size I wear?"
Lilian's voice turned cold as she scolded me.
"Sheila, you're being far too aggressive. Jayden has already lowered himself to apologize. It's just a wrong size—yet you keep harping on it. What kind of behavior is this?"
The other relatives tried to smooth things over.
"Sheila, fitted styles are trending online these days. Maybe the brand intentionally runs small—you can't blame Jayden entirely."
"Exactly. He meant well. Why are you losing your temper without even thinking it through?"
My brother-in-law chimed in as well. "Sheila, Jayden treats you better than anyone could. He spends every day on his phone picking out styles and checking designer brands just to buy you nice clothes. How can you not see how good he is to you?"
My mother-in-law's face hardened as she scolded me.
"Sheila, you're utterly ungrateful. Jayden doesn't just buy you clothes—he comes home from work and goes straight into the kitchen to cook your favorite dishes. He never lets you lift a finger. What more could you possibly want?"
Jayden sat beside me, his eyes slightly red, looking as though I had truly hurt him.
…
A white porcelain bowl of boiled greens was set in front of me. The pale green broth didn't even have a trace of oil.
Jayden seemed completely unaware of anything wrong.
"Honey, I made your favorite boiled vegetables just for you."
As he spoke, he picked up my empty bowl and reached over to serve me.
The silver spoon dipped to the bottom and came up with a full portion.
I knocked the bowl over in one swift motion.
"What's the point of this fake concern of yours?! There are so many things I like to eat—why is this the only one you ever remember?"
Camille stood up.
"Sheila, now you're being unreasonable. How can you talk like that?"
The relatives began talking over one another again, all of them criticizing me.
"Who treats their husband like this in public? He's good to her and she doesn't appreciate it—she even picks a fight on purpose."
Jayden raised a hand to stop them, his tone gentle as he spoke in my defense.
"Please don't blame Sheila. She's just been in a bad mood lately. It's my fault for not being thoughtful enough and making her upset."
As he spoke, he took out an exquisite velvet box from inside his suit jacket and flicked it open with his fingers.
A diamond ring lay inside, its facets clear and brilliant, casting a dazzling light that reflected the shock on everyone's faces.
Jayden held the box out to me.
"Sheila, when we got married, I only bought you a small diamond ring. I've always remembered that—I've always felt like I owed you.
"Now that I've received my year-end bonus, I wanted to make it up to you with something proper. Just a small token from me."
At his words, my mother-in-law grabbed his arm, sighing with heartache.
"My son, you give her your whole heart, and she still acts so insensible."
Camille's tone was thick with disapproval.
"Sheila, Jayden's done so much for you. What is it that you're still unhappy about?"
I lowered my gaze to the diamond ring, my eyes settling on the band.
The irony and anger inside me surged to a breaking point.
With a flick of my hand, I swept the velvet box straight to the floor.
The ring rolled far across the ground, letting out a crisp, ringing sound.
"Who asked you to do all these pointless things?"
My voice was cold.
"Instead of putting on this show, why don't you use your brain and remember what actually matters?"
My mother-in-law trembled with rage.
"This is outrageous! The clothes aren't good enough for you, and now you're throwing away a carefully chosen diamond ring too. Where in this world is there a daughter-in-law as hard to please as you? Jayden must have terrible luck to have married someone so ungrateful!"
I snapped back, my voice breaking.
"All I want are clothes that fit and a ring that's the right size. Since when does that make me ungrateful in your eyes?!"
Jayden reached out to grab my arm, his voice carrying a trace of helplessness.
"Sheila, I know it's all my fault. I'll change, okay? Please don't be angry."
I wrenched my arm free and shouted at him, "You're right—it is all your fault. Every bit of it is your fault!"
Smack—
My mother-in-law's hand struck my face.
My head spun, and I staggered, nearly losing my balance.
"I think Jayden has spoiled you rotten. Your temper is getting worse and worse!"
Jayden immediately stepped in, blocking his furious, trembling mother and shielding me.
"Mom, how can you hit Sheila? She's just upset. It's my fault for not thinking things through. It has nothing to do with her."
Hearing this only made the relatives more convinced that I was being unreasonable.
They looked at Jayden with sympathy, murmuring that he spoiled me too much.
His tone remained gentle.
"Sheila, if you don't want to eat boiled vegetables, I understand. Just tell me what you want—I'll go make it for you right now, okay?"
At those words, my anger shot straight to my head.
"Jayden, stop acting! Standing there with that wronged expression, putting on this whole act of being considerate for everyone to see—does that make you feel accomplished?"
The moment I finished speaking, Lilian stepped forward at once.
"Sheila, you've gone too far! Jayden has already backed down so much, and you're still being so rude to him. Do you have any sense of how a wife should behave?" Lilian scolded.
Camille nodded along.
"Exactly. Jayden has given you his whole heart. How can you be so unappreciative and even say such hurtful things to wound him?"
Every gaze in the room converged on me.
Even those who weren't speaking pointed at me, one after another, eager to voice their disapproval.
My mother-in-law let out a cold snort.
"Sheila, listen carefully. Today, you must apologize to my son. Otherwise, this won't end here!"
I looked at her. "What if I don't?"
She slammed the table so hard it echoed through the room, her tone firm and unquestionable.
"If you don't apologize, then you two will get a divorce! Our family has no place for an ungrateful daughter-in-law like you!"
She believed that the moment she said the word *divorce*, I would panic—give in, soften, and obediently apologize to Jayden.
After all, Jayden was the kind of husband anyone would dream of.
The people around us began persuading me as well, telling me not to act on impulse, saying my mother-in-law was just angry in the moment. A husband like Jayden was rare—divorce would be such a waste.
My mother-in-law lifted her chin, utterly confident, as if certain I would bow my head.
But the next second, I said it clearly, without hesitation, "Fine. If you want a divorce, let's divorce."
The room fell silent in shock.
Jayden's expression changed instantly. He shot to his feet and grabbed my hand.
"Sheila, don't be impulsive. How can you say that?"
I wrenched my hand free, my gaze steady and unmoved.
"I'm not being impulsive. I truly want a divorce. Jayden, after these three years, I've had enough."
My mother-in-law stared at me, teeth clenched.
"Good. Since you're so ungrateful, I'll grant your wish! I'd like to see how well you live once you leave my son!"
As she spoke, she turned toward a young man sitting in the corner—her nephew, who worked at a law firm.
She waved him over.
"Johnny, print out a divorce agreement right now and have her sign it! My son is this good, and she wants a divorce? Then she leaves with nothing. The house, the car—everything belongs to Jayden. She won't take a single cent!"
Johnny Reese hesitated for a moment but still got up and left.
Before long, he returned, holding a freshly printed divorce agreement.
My mother-in-law threw it in front of me, her eyes filled with contempt and warning.
"Sheila, remember this. Once you sign, you'll have nothing to do with our family ever again. Don't even think about benefiting from us in the future!"
Jayden grabbed my hand, pleading desperately.
"Sheila, please don't divorce me, okay? Sheila, I just love you too much—I was only trying to think of you more."
I ignored him. Lowering my head, I signed my name on the agreement without hesitation.
Jayden opened his mouth to say something.
But this time, before he could speak, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sound rang out, sharp and clear.
Jayden was stunned. He held his cheek, staring at me in disbelief.
My mother-in-law exploded instantly.
But I didn't give her the chance to speak. I turned and rushed straight into the walk-in closet.
I yanked open the wardrobe doors. Inside hung all the designer clothes Jayden had given me over the years.
I grabbed armfuls of hangers. Silk dresses, couture coats, cashmere sweaters, winter overcoats—I gathered them all into my arms, rushed back into the living room, and hurled them onto the floor.
The clothes scattered everywhere, their logos bold, their fabrics luxurious—yet now they looked like nothing more than discarded trash.
Everyone froze, their eyes fixed on the pile.
The room fell completely silent, save for the soft rustle of fabric.
My mother-in-law stiffened, her face flushed with anger.
"Sheila, even now you're still making a scene. You've been so spoiled you don't even know your place anymore!"
I looked at her and let out a cold laugh.
"You say I'm making a scene? Fine. I'll show you what kind of 'scene' I'm really making."
As my words fell, under everyone's watchful eyes, I took off the oversized down jacket I was wearing.
In the next second, everyone sucked in a sharp breath.