Rebirth as the Cheating Husband's Worst Nightmare

Chapter 2

I grabbed Liam's shirt and hurled it out the door. "The divorce papers are signed. What does your father have to do with me now?"

Liam's face twisted in anger. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I shrugged, lips curling into a smirk. "Call it a mental breakdown. Got a problem with that?"

I used to think I was the crazy one, arguing, throwing things, starving myself just to prove a point.

But now I know better.

Hurting myself was useless.

Hurting them? That's how you take back control.

Just look at him, he barely says three words to me on a normal day, but the second I moved out of the storage room, he came chasing after me.

Turns out, silence and indifference sting more than screaming ever did.

Liam stormed out, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled.

I ignored the murmurs floating in from the living room, pulled off the dusty sheets on the master bed, and threw on fresh ones like I owned the place, which I did.

Then I walked straight to the bathroom.

Steam filled the space as I let the hot water wash over me. I closed my eyes and timed it in my head.

By now, I'd usually be picking up the kids from school.

Then it'd be: dinner for five, cleaning up after everyone, homework help, bath time, then making sure Richard took his meds before bed.

I was their maid. Their nanny. Their invisible housekeeper.

Not anymore.

After drying off and changing, I sat down to check my savings.

I'd only worked for a couple of years after college before marrying Liam. His paycheck always went straight to Margaret, and she treated it like her money. Every cent I spent had to be explained.

If I needed tampons, I had to ask for permission.

But I'd been tutoring English on the side, stashing away every dollar.

Just over ten grand. Not a fortune, but enough to keep me standing after I walked away.

As for the apartment? This three-bedroom unit was left to me by my parents. Premarital property. Untouchable.

Looking back, I finally saw Liam's urgency to marry me for what it really was, a calculated grab for this place.

The whole Johnson family had been playing the long game. Hoping to wear me down, bleed me dry, and spit me out.

Not this time.

No tears. No second chances. No going back.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Margaret's fists pounded on the bathroom door like she was about to break it off the hinges.

"Sophia! What are you doing in there, hiding like a sulking brat? The kids are out of school! No one's picked them up, and the floor is a damn mess!"

I swung the door open without flinching. "Liam's perfectly capable. Let him go."

She stared at me like I'd just grown two heads. "Are you insane? Men don't do that sort of thing!"

"Oh? Did I make those kids by myself?" I snapped. "If not, then guess what, no one picks them up today."

And with that, I slammed the door in her face and locked it.

That used to be her favorite weapon, guilt.

She'd lay it on thick until I caved, scared the kids would suffer for my defiance.

But not this time.

Let's see how long they can last.

Suddenly, CRASH.

A loud noise echoed down the hallway, like something had been knocked over… or thrown.

I didn't flinch.

Let the tantrums begin.