Chapter 2

After a long while, Brent replied:

"Do I need to know?"

"You're just a housewife who can't even handle things at home. What else can you do?"

"Did I marry you to be a useless freeloader?"

My already cold heart plummeted to rock bottom.

I laughed bitterly at myself, deleting the news of our daughter's and mother-in-law's deaths.

He'd been staying out for days or weeks with his first love, not coming home or answering calls.

When had he ever cared about this family?!

Why should I bother disrupting his "good time"!

Brent and I met through an arranged date.

When we got married, he said he'd be responsible for earning money, while I'd take care of his mobility-impaired mother and our future children.

Seeing his career on the rise, I quit my job without hesitation to become a full-time housewife.

For six years after our marriage, I made Brent the center of my world, doting on him, serving tea to his mother, and carefully nurturing our daughter.

But Brent's attitude towards me grew increasingly cold, and he came home later and later.

Yet I never complained, because I had promised Brent that I would trust and support him no matter what happened.

However, my concessions didn't bring about Brent's understanding. Instead, they only made him more and more demanding.Shirts stained with mysterious lipstick and perfume had become the norm. For the sake of my mother-in-law and daughter, I kept playing blind, never asking questions.

Until his secretary Britta added me on WeChat that I realized Brent's pure love, his first love, had returned.

And she was boldly staying by his side.

When the ex cries, the current loses.

She effortlessly stole Brent's heart.

She even managed to get workaholic Brent to take annual leave to accompany her to Turkey!

Poor mother-in-law who had toiled all her life, poor five-year-old daughter!

They'll die thinking Brent was working hard for the family.

I looked at my daughter's photo and silently wept.

It wasn't until the sky began to lighten that I finally fell asleep.

Not long after, I was awakened by a commotion.

I rubbed my eyes and got up to leave the bedroom.

In the living room, a woman wearing a silk nightgown sat at the dining table, elegantly cutting a croissant.

It was Britta. How could she get into my house?

"Turkey was truly romantic. There were hot air balloons everywhere. Brent and I rode in one together. The feeling of overlooking the entire city was absolutely amazing.""She's your sister, isn't she? Why don't I send you the travel itinerary Brent and I made together?"

Britta cocked an eyebrow at me smugly.

Then, she opened a canister, scooped out some powder, and added hot water.

She swirled the cup, watching the powder gradually dissolve inside.

A faint milky aroma wafted through the air.

Britta took a whiff and smiled contentedly:

"Wow~ It smells so sweet."

"Sis, this is special Turkish milk tea Brent sent back for me. Want to try some?"

My heart skipped a beat as I focused on the "milk tea powder" in Britta's hand.

This wasn't milk tea at all, but... my mother-in-law's ashes!

I couldn't afford a nice urn, so I had to put the ashes in a small box.

To make it less shabby, I wrapped it in gold paper, making it look like a tin of milk powder.

My mother-in-law had a tough life, so I wanted to sweeten things up for her after death by mixing some milk powder and sugar into her ashes.

No wonder it gave off the scent of milk tea."Britta, that's not really..."

I was about to stop Britta from drinking it, but she was faster than me, downing the bone ash boba tea in one gulp.

I held my tongue, helplessly watching as Britta ingested the ashes.

Britta's expression was clearly odd for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.

"Jolene sis, why are you staring at me like an idiot? Jealous much?"

Britta put down the empty cup, smugly tilting her chin up.

"You don't have to feel so insecure. Any man with decent taste would choose me over you."

"Know why Brent hasn't divorced you yet? Because you're a cheap, useful nanny."

"These hands of mine are for painting. He wouldn't dare make me do housework and take care of his mom."

Britta's tone was caustic, her face wearing a schadenfreude expression, like a proud peacock.

"Oh, I forgot, you used to paint too. Tell me, did Brent pick you based on my standards?"

"Jolene sis, would it really hurt you that much to give Brent back to me?"

If this had happened before, I would have been devastated by Britta's provocation, agonizing over what I could have done better.

But now, I just find it laughable.

I laugh at my poor judgment of people, laugh at my own weakness.

I laugh at not setting these two scumbags up sooner!

I clench my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. The pain keeps me clear-headed.

I coldly stare at Britta and say calmly:

"What's so bad about giving a bitch back to a bitch?"