Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After that conversation, Lydia kept pestering me for an explanation, but I refused to say more.

She eventually gave up and went back to being her entitled self. "Anyway, it's the weekend and I'm done studying! I'm gaming with my boyfriend, so don't disturb me!"

I nodded. "Sure. I won't bother you."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I'm ordering a massive pile of fast food later. You're not going to lecture me about health, right?"

I smiled. "Not at all. From now on, your choices are your own."

"Finally! Freedom!" Lydia cheered, clutching her phone as she bolted into her room and slammed the door, locking it from the inside.

Soon, I could hear her giggling. The flirty, suggestive things she was saying were stomach-turning, especially coming from a teenager.

I shook my head and sighed.

People choose their own paths in life.

If this was the life she wanted, she could have it.

Trying to save her would only lead to my own destruction again.

I stood in the living room, looking around at the home I had built. I realized there was absolutely nothing here worth keeping.

A daughter who wished for my death, a husband colder than a stranger, and a mother-in-law who only showed up to complain.

I was actually impressed with my past self for putting up with it for over a decade.

In this life, I'm throwing away the trash.

It was Saturday. Lance worked during the day and had a dinner meeting that night. He didn't stumble home until 9:00 PM, smelling like a brewery.

Under the scent of beer and cigarettes, there was a faint, floral perfume of another woman.

I played the doting wife and took his coat. While he wasn't looking, I slipped his phone out of the pocket.

He didn't say a single word to me. He just washed up and passed out on the bed.

I unlocked his phone and a notification immediately popped up from Lacey the Assistant: "Goodnight, babe. Sweet dreams."

The chat history was empty except for that one message. He was smart enough to delete the rest.

I checked her social media profile. It was filled with "faceless" couple photos―holding hands, hugging, even photos from hotel rooms.

Even without a face, I knew those hands. I knew that watch. I knew that was my husband.

I threw on a coat, tucked his phone into my pocket, and headed out.

I went to a tech repair shop and paid the owner a premium to recover his deleted call logs and messages.

The results came back quickly.

They were calling each other at least three times a day. Their chat history averaged hundreds of messages daily.

I also asked the tech to unlock his hidden photo vault.

As expected, it was a goldmine. There were explicit photos that would get anyone banned from public platforms. They were careful enough to keep their faces out of them, though.

Before I left, I had the technician install a subtle tracking and recording app on the device.

Then I went to a 24-hour printing shop. I printed every single photo from Lacey's social media and every explicit shot from the hidden vault.

The clerk's jaw dropped as the photos came off the printer. He looked like he wanted to say something, but my cold expression kept him quiet.

I returned home, locked the thick stack of photos in a private drawer, and slipped the phone back into Lance's coat.

The next morning, I woke up to Lance screaming at me.

"Why didn't you wake me up?! Do you have any idea how late I am?!"

"Are you a literal pig? How can you sleep so much? Where is breakfast? What are Lydia and I supposed to eat?!"

Lydia joined in, glaring at me. "You're so bitter, old hag! Did you do this on purpose so I'd be late? Fine! I'm not going to school today anyway!"

My work started at 9:00 AM, but they both needed to be out by 8:00 AM.

For ten years, I had woken up at 6:30 AM to make a full breakfast, waking them at 7:10 AM to ensure they were out the door.

Today, I didn't get out of bed until 7:50 AM.

A decade of sacrifice meant nothing to them. One day of looking after myself made me a villain in their eyes.

It was almost funny.

I looked at Lance coldly. "Your salary is so low anyway. Why don't you quit and become a stay-at-home dad? Then you can make your own breakfast."

I turned to Lydia. "And as for you, I told you I'm done managing your life. If you need a wake-up call, ask your father."

Lydia screamed, "Fine! Don't you dare try to help me ever again!"

Lance's face was purple with rage. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but I've had enough! Come on, Lydia. Dad's taking you out for breakfast."

Lydia cheered, "Yay! Dad's the best! I love you, Dad! Let's leave this old hag behind!"

They slammed the door on their way out.

I walked into the kitchen and prepared a beautiful, nutritious breakfast just for myself.

From now on, I was the only person I was taking care of.