2.

The mistress might not have had any morals, but at least she knew how to get straight to the point.

"Divorce Chad. We've been together for two and a half years. You're old and washed up; you shouldn't keep clinging to your position. It's time for someone new. Besides, I'm pregnant with Chad's baby."

Everything she'd said so far was laughable, but that last line made me crack. I actually laughed out loud.

My mom, far more composed than I am, calmly retorted, "You're pregnant? What does that have to do with us?"

The mistress shot back, full of self-righteousness, "I'm carrying Chad's child, and he promised he would take responsibility for me. The one who isn't loved is the real mistress here. Take your money pit and get the hell out of Chad's house."

Wait a minute…

I blinked, not quite understanding the situation.

'Is this mistress just a phenomenal actress, or had my dad suddenly… recovered?'

Three years ago, my dad was in a car accident and fell into a coma for three days. Fortunately, he pulled through. While his other organs recovered just fine, the accident unfortunately left him permanently sterile.

My mom and I couldn't bear to see my dad fall apart, so together with his doctor, we've been hiding it from him ever since.

That's why I laughed out loud when I heard the mistress claim she was pregnant with my dad's child.

Obviously, the mistress was having an affair with my dad, but he clearly wasn't her only sugar daddy.

She just saw that my dad was rich and thought she could use a baby to marry up and secure her future.

'My dad was a classic sucker.'

But she had seriously miscalculated.

For one, my dad couldn't get her pregnant. For two, my father, who's always putting on a show, would never have told her that he'd married into our family. He only has what he has today because he lives off my mother's money; most of the family's assets are in her name.

Seeing that my mom and I remained silent, the mistress grew impatient and slammed her hand on the table. "I'll say it again! The one who isn't loved is the real mistress here. If you know what's good for you, you'll bow out gracefully. It'll save you the humiliation of being thrown out."

My mom nodded. "You have a point."

With that, she took my hand. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go pack our bags."

: Divorce

3.

Huh? Wait, wait, wait?

What's going on?

'Why isn't my mom ripping the other woman to shreds?!'

But on second thought, it made sense. My parents' marriage had been over for years—it was in name only. My dad had a long string of affairs, and my mom couldn't even be bothered with them anymore.

This was actually a good opportunity. My mom could finally start her life of freedom.

Besides, this mistress was so low-tier. Stooping to her level would be a total waste of time.

But just as we were about to walk past the homewrecker, my dad came home.

The moment he pushed the door open, the woman channeled her inner award-winning actress. She clutched her stomach, tumbled off the sofa, and burst into a flood of tears.

"I know you can't stand me, but how could you hurt my child! I only came here to meet you like we agreed. Why did you push me? You're trying to kill my baby!"

'Wow.'

'Any word from Cannes?'

This was the scene my dad walked in on.

The homewrecker was sprawled theatrically on the floor, a mess of snot and tears, acting as if Mom and I had actually done something to her.

'Such a damsel in distress.'

The problem was, despite her ridiculously over-the-top acting, my dad bought it.

Tsk.

'I had a feeling that if my dad ever went bankrupt, it would be because some scheming woman had cleaned him out. He was just so damn gullible. How on earth did a woman as smart as my mom fall for him in the first place?!'

A look of pure anguish on his face, my dad rushed over and gathered the homewrecker in his arms. A barrage of accusations flew from his mouth. "What did you do to Mylene? If you have a problem, take it out on me! What does attacking her prove?"

My mom nodded calmly. "As a matter of fact, there is something I'd like to address."

My dad scoffed. "Then get on with it."

"I want a divorce."

: An Unexpected Bonus

4.

The four of us in the room wore four very different expressions.

I was full of admiration for my mom's calm, cool, and collected demeanor. She looked as if she were above it all. The mistress, of course, was smugly triumphant. As for my dad's expression… well, that was a bit more complicated.

First, his eyes widened in disbelief. Then, he started scrambling to save face.

"Wynn Rhodes, shouldn't I be the one saying that? After all these years of marriage, I've had more than enough of how bland you are! Who's going to want you if you leave me? How dare you be the one to so casually ask for a divorce?"

Men can be such scumbags sometimes!

He wanted to keep his wife at home while having his flings on the side.

He took his homemaker wife for granted, yet he couldn't bear to leave her.

My dad, naturally, was a master of the art.

The ultimate mooch with a massive ego.

Seeing that my mom's expression remained utterly unfazed, my dad's frustration turned to fury.

He grabbed a cup from the coffee table and smashed it. "Fine! Divorce! We'll go to the Civil Affairs Bureau tomorrow! And I'm keeping the kid!"

Behind my dad's back, the mistress looked panicked, terrified my mom would leave a menace like me in the house.

My mom shook her head and calmly laid out the facts.

"She's grown up now. Legally, she has the right to choose for herself."

And just like that, three pairs of eyes fell on me.

'What a joke. Of course I'd choose my mom.'

I hugged my mom's arm tightly.

'My mom will always be my mom. But my dad? Once the mistress has him completely bewitched, will he even remember he has a daughter?'

My dad got even angrier, his face twisting with the anguish of being betrayed by both of us.

He pointed a trembling finger at my face. "Fine, fine, fine! You choose her! Go on! If you dare take a single step out of this house, then as far as I'm concerned, I don't have a daughter!"

My mom's eyes finally lit up.

"An offer that good?"

With that, she grabbed my hand and strode out of the house without a backward glance.

She didn't even bother with our luggage.

'After all, my mom wasn't short on cash.'

Behind us, we could hear my dad's furious, spluttering curses.

And, of course, the mistress's saccharine-sweet words of comfort: "Darling, I'll always be here for you."

BLECH—

'Good thing Mom got me out of there so fast.'