I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face, my heart filled with regret.

If I had known earlier that life after marrying him would be so full of pain and wounds, I would never have compromised that night, even if it cost me my life.

I sat numbly in front of the computer, staring at the freshly typed divorce agreement on the screen—they stung my eyes.

I gave a bitter smile as I looked at them.

If it weren’t for Melanie, with my stubborn nature, I would have already thrown that paper in his face and walked away without a second thought.

But whenever I thought of Melanie’s little face which was full of grievance, I couldn’t bear to do such a thing.

I always wanted to try a little harder, unwilling to let her grow up without a father at such a young age.

Melanie had woken up early.

Upon hearing her dad had come home, the little one was as excited as ever, jumping up and down on her small bed.

“I want to show Dad the drawing I just finished!”

That was just how children were—innocent and kind.

The pain she suffered at nursery yesterday had been forgotten after one night’s sleep.

She had already forgiven Mike.

Melanie ran downstairs with joy in her heart.

But the sight before her stopped her dead in her tracks.

There stood Jennifer and Oliver in the living room, and Mike was sitting on the sofa, gently peeling an orange for Oliver with a face full of tenderness.

Melanie blinked and asked timidly, “Daddy, who are they?”

Upon hearing her voice, Mike’s brows furrowed in annoyance.

His tone held unmistakable disgust.

“Why are you still at home? Where’s your mom?”

Startled by the sudden scolding, Melanie flinched.

Her eyes instantly reddened, but even so, she carefully held out the family portrait she had spent an entire week drawing.

With a trembling voice, she said, “This is the family picture I drew. I wanted to give it to you when you arrive back at home…”

Before she could finish her sentence, just as the picture—filled with her love and anticipation—was about to reach Mike’s hands, a small hand snatched it away rudely.

“What kind of garbage is this? You call this a drawing?”

Oliver’s little face flushed red with anger.

He stomped his foot and, with a sharp tug, tore Melanie’s drawing in half with a loud rip.

His arrogant, domineering attitude was on full display.

With his hands on his hips and his chin raised, hi shoved my daughter hard and shouted, “Hmph! This is my dad! All the kids at school say you’re just some stray without a dad—who said you could call him Daddy?”

Melanie’s frail little body swayed a few times before she fell to the floor with a loud thump, and then burst into loud sobs.

Tears immediately welled up in my eyes.

Panicking, I rushed forward and scooped Melanie into my arms, holding her tightly.

Then, glaring coldly at Oliver, I said between gnashed teeth, “Apologize.”

Mike saw the scene and immediately frowned.

His face darkened with visible displeasure as he snapped at me, “Shannon, why are you being so harsh to a kid?”

Without hesitation, he strode forward, bent down, and scooped Oliver into his arms, gently patting her back in comfort.

“I told you last night, didn’t I? Oliver is very possessive. He can’t stand other kids calling me Dad. He was just upset and made a mistake—he didn’t mean to push Melanie.”

I stood my ground like a stone rooted deep in the earth.

My gaze remained unwavering and firm as I looked directly at him, without backing down an inch.

“Was he not doing it on purpose? Didn’t you see it just now?”

I took a deep breath, trying my best to suppress the fire burning in my chest, but my voice still trembled.

“Mike, he just called Melanie a bastard to her face—why don’t you tell him, is Melanie really a bastard?”

Mike paused for a second, a flicker of hesitation flashing across his face.

But within moments, he lowered his head again, gently coaxing Oliver in his arms, completely ignoring my question, with no intention of asking Oliver to apologize.

At that moment, Jennifer, who had been standing silently on the side, shifted her eyes and suddenly put on a gentle, gracious smile.

She spoke in a soft and delicate voice,

“Ms. Harvey, I truly apologize. Oliver grew up abroad—he’s a bit straightforward and rough around the edges, he just says whatever comes to his mind. Please don’t take it to heart.”

But just as those seemingly peacemaking words left her lips, the smug look on the little boy’s face didn’t diminish in the slightest—in fact, it became even more arrogant.

Oliver raised his chin and shouted at the top of his lungs, “I wasn’t making anything up! That’s what everyone at school says! Melanie is a bastard! She stole my dad!”

My fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

I stared at Mike, my gaze burning.

I remembered how, in the past, he had used him being a neat freak as an excuse to show constant disdain toward me and Melanie—and we endured it all.

We tiptoed around him in everything.

I turned a blind eye when he claimed to be “working late”, while he was actually out sleeping with other women.

I swallowed the bitterness and carried on.

But today—I would not let anyone insult my daughter like that.

“Mike, I’ll ask you one last time—” I paused, took a deep breath, my eyes rimmed with red, and asked slowly and firmly, “Is Melanie your biological daughter or not?”

Mike’s expression darkened.

A cold, bone-cutting sneer curled at his lips.

“Don’t you already know that better than anyone how she became my daughter?”

“Enough. Oliver’s paying a visit today. Let’s stop making a fuss, no need to ruin everyone’s mood.”

Mike furrowed his brows slightly, his tone laced with irritation.

His eyes held a kind of blame, as if I were the one being unreasonable, ruining this so-called "harmonious" moment.

Next to him, Jennifer and her child exchanged subtle glances.

The corners of their mouths lifted ever so slightly, eyes gleaming with a kind of triumphant glee—as though they were the true victors of this farce, and Melanie and I were just the unwanted losers in the background.

Mike paid no mind to how I or Melanie felt.

He walked straight up to Oliver, bent down with heartache etched into his face, and scooped him up in his arms.

His voice was so gentle it almost dripped with honey.

“Daddy’s going to buy you lots and lots of toys, okay?

Even that limited-edition LEGO set you’ve been wanting—I’ll get it all for you.”

“Yay!”

Oliver clapped excitedly, his face lit up with pride and joy.

Mike’s gaze softened even more at the sight, filled with a kind of doting tenderness that neither Melanie nor I had ever received.

As I watched his figure grow smaller and smaller, a bitter cold crept up from the depths of my heart, as if I had been thrown into an ice cellar.

All the grievances, anger, and crushing disappointment I had been holding back finally surged through me like an unstoppable tide.

At last, I took a deep breath and said the words I had rehearsed countless times in my heart—the words I had hesitated over again and again, but never dared to speak aloud until now.

“Mike, let’s get a divorce.”

Mike’s steps suddenly halted, as if he had just heard something unbelievable.

He slowly turned his head, his eyes as cold as a frostbitten winter day.

“Shannon, do you think playing this little act is funny?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the corners of his mouth curling into a sneer.

“If you think threatening me with divorce will shake me—fine, then I’ll give you what you want.”

With that, he turned and walked away without looking back.

That resolute figure seemed to declare that he had never truly cared about me or Melanie.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile flashed quickly across Jennifer’s eyes.

But it vanished in an instant, replaced by a carefully arranged look of false remorse as she returned to me.

“I’m truly sorry, Ms. Harvey. There’s nothing between Mike and me. Please don’t misunderstand our relationship.” Mike is a man who values loyalty and affection deeply. He just feels sorry for me—divorced so early, my child without a father—so he’s been a little more caring. Please don’t take it the wrong way, and don’t let this make things unpleasant between everyone…”

Before she left, Jennifer even hypocritically added me on WhatsApp, saying she wanted to compensate Melanie for the drawing Oliver had torn apart.

“Jennifer, come here.”

Mike was standing not far outside, holding Oliver in his arms.

His voice was impossibly soft, calling to her gently.

“Coming!”

Jennifer’s face lit up with a radiant smile as she happily trotted over to him.

Their figures hadn’t even fully disappeared from view when their hushed voices reached my ears with perfect clarity.

“Mike, really? Ms. Harvey was just angry when she mentioned divorce. How could you just agree like that?”

Jennifer’s tone carried a hint of playful blame, as though she were defending me.

Mike let out a cold snort, his voice thick with ridicule.

“She begged and schemed for this marriage—how could she possibly be willing to let it go? She snapped at Oliver just now. This is just a little punishment, and before long, she’ll come crawling back to me in tears.”

Hearing that, I couldn’t help but curve my lips into a cold smile.

‘Mike… you’re wrong. People change. The Shannon who once chased love like a moth to a flame—throwing everything away without regret—she’s gone. Now, for the sake of my daughter, I would walk away from you without hesitation, leave behind this endless pain and humiliation once and for all.’

Melanie had locked herself in her room.

Her muffled sobs pierced straight into my heart like sharp needles.

After a long while, she finally choked out a question, her voice laced with that innocent grief and helplessness unique to children.

“Mommy… everyone at school says Daddy is Oliver’s daddy. But I never tried to take Daddy away from him…”

Her cries came in broken bursts, as if she was trying to pour out all the sorrow in her tiny heart.

Eventually, the weeping faded.

I gently pushed the door open.

Melanie had fallen fast asleep, still clutching a photo of Mike, with teardrops glistening at the corners of her eyes.

Her little face was streaked with dried tears, and the sight of it felt like a giant invisible hand had reached into my chest and twisted my heart.

It hurt so much.

And as for me me—

I tossed and turned the entire night, unable to sleep.

In my boredom, I reached for my phone.

The screen lit up, and the moment it did, a new post caught my eye.

Jennifer had just updated her Twitter.