Chapter 3

Five years ago, my father received $30,000 in compensation for a work injury.

As soon as Dean found out, he told me he was starting a company.

Even that $30,000 wasn't enough for him, and I had to sell my old house too and gather another $70,000.

He held me then, nestling his face against my neck as he sobbed, promising to return everything to me when he got rich.

Now, five years later, my mom was diagnosed with liver cancer, and I asked him for $20,000, only for him to tell me that aging and death were inevitable.

I rented an apartment near the hospital after I left, so that I could better take care of my mother in the future.

I was just unpacking when my phone rang.

It was Mrs. Stark, Dean's mother.

And she clearly sounded unhappy. "Why aren't you here for my massage? My hips are going to snap. Get over here already… Also, I keep waking up at night for days now, so you're staying over too. It's high time you clean this place…"

Every morning at 5am, I would go to her home to cook breakfast for her, and return in the evening to wash her feet and manicure, staying on my knees the whole time.

Her hip was always sore, so I learned massage.

But after doing it for three hours every day, even my fingers had become disjointed.

I always thought I was doing my part while Dean worked hard to make money, only for Mrs. Stark to treat me like her housemaid.

So I cut her short, "Dean and I are breaking up. If you have any problems, take it up with him."

There was stunned silence on the other end, but Mrs. Stark soon bellowed, "Breaking up?! Have you lost your mind?! With your rotten womb, who else would take you in other than my son?!"

My fingers clenched around my phone, but I didn't argue and simply hung up.

Soon, Dean sent me voice messages.

"Luna is having a stomach ache and wants your chicken soup. Start cooking—I want it at the hospital in two hours."

"Answer me. What, are you deaf?"

"What's the point of getting jealous? Luna's at the hospital."

I never replied, as I was busy checking out my wedding venue with Yorick.

-

There were dozens of missed calls and over forty messages from Dean on my phone when I woke up the next day,

The last one read: [Come home. We need to talk.]

When I entered the front door, Dean, Luna, and Mrs. Stark were on the couch, with Dean springing to his feet.

Pointing at Mrs. Stark, his chest heaved as he hollered, "Why didn't you take care of Mom last night?! She fell when she went to the toilet, and broke a bone! You call yourself her daughter-in-law?!"

Mrs. Stark shrugged, her tone shrill and sarcastic. "Oh, but I'm not presumptuous to ask for some big-shot heiress to take care of me. I was just unlucky—I deserved it."

Dean turned back to me, growling slowly and clearly, "Throw tantrums all you like—I don't mind playing along if I'm in the mood. But know your limits, because I won't tolerate it when you drag my mother into this!"

I looked at him calmly. "I'm breaking up with you. So return me the hundred grand I gave you to start your business, and we don't owe each other anything."

The living room turned dead silent—even Dean was stunned.

Still, Luna soon burst out laughing. "So all that drama was for money? You could have said it outright. Why bother running in circles?"

Dean's expression visibly calmed too, and he sighed in exasperation as if dealing with a naughty child. "Just tell me what you want—I'll get it for you. But you're a woman, and you won't need money for anything."

He kept saying the same thing for five years, which was why I always went penniless.

Even buying ingredients and sanitary pads required his approval.

My head throbbed so much it hurt. "Did you give me the $20,000 I asked for because of my mother's illness?"

Luna sighed out loud. "Don't you get it? I made a divination, but she's committed too much evil. It's time she died—"

I slapped her across the face right then.