Goodbye to a Dirty Husband

At the New Year’s family dinner, Emma Quinn entered the house with a food container, her son was behind.

Her mother-in-law warmly took the food container and said, “Local girls are so thoughtful. A woman from out of town can’t even make a tasty food.”

Ethan Brooks put down his phone and gently took Emma ’s son, soothing him, but then coldly told their daughter, who had accidentally fallen and was crying, to move away.

I removed my apron, picked up my daughter and sat down, holding back my anger.

"People from small places have no manners," my mother-in-law criticized. "The guest hasn’t even sat down, but she’s already made herself comfortable."

Ethan reached over to pull me, irritated by our daughter’s crying and slapped her.

I stood up quickly, pulled my daughter protectively behind me and threw a freshly cooked dish of spicy pork blood stew over Ethan’s head.

When my mother-in-law reached out to hit me, I quickly flipped the dining table over, spilling the boiling chicken soup that scalded her as she screamed in pain.

It’s one thing to disgust me, but bullying me is another.

I picked up my daughter, grabbed my suitcase and left, throwing the divorce papers in Ethan’s face.

He may be dirty, but I won’t leave without what’s rightfully mine.

My unfaithful husband and his insulting mother would both pay the price.

Part 1

I had just finished making New Year’s dinner and hadn’t even taken off my apron when the doorbell rang.

My mother-in-law rushed to open the door, showing no sign of the back pain she often claimed to have.

As my daughter walked toward me, she tripped over a carelessly placed trash can and sat on the ground, wailing.

Charlotte entered, holding her six-month-old son and carrying a food container, with a triumphant smile on her face.

"Auntie, I made some of your favorite dishes and little Edward missed you, so I brought him over."

"Local girls are so thoughtful," my mother-in-law said, giving me a disdainful look. "Out-of-town women can’t even make decent food."

Upon hearing Charlotte’s voice, Ethan quickly stopped his game, took little Edward and soothed him gently.

“Why are you crying? It’s New Year, you little brat. You scared Edward. Go and cry in the bathroom if you have to.”

Ethan was mad at my daughter and his face was fierce.

I took off my apron, picked up my daughter and sat down, comforting her softly.

In front of my daughter, I held back my anger.

“Mommy, I want some of that meat,” my daughter begged. I picked up a piece of spicy chicken for her.

“People from small places have no manners. The guest hasn’t even sat down, but she has,” my mother-in-law said sarcastically as she pulled out a chair for Charlotte.

Hearing this, Ethan reached over to pull me and slapped our daughter, annoyed by her crying.

I quickly stood up, pulled my daughter protectively behind me and dumped a hot pot of spicy pork blood stew over Ethan’s head.

His face turned red from the scalding and he nearly dropped little Edward.

My mother-in-law reached out to hit me, but I quickly flipped the table over, spilling hot chicken soup that scalded her as she screamed.

"Emma, are you crazy? How could you treat Ethan and Godmother like this?" Charlotte asked, her voice was sharp.

"And who are you to question me?" I retorted. "Is your family all gone, that you have to barge into other people’s homes on New Year’s?"

“You… Ethan, look at her!” Charlotte cried, got furious and flustered, as Ethan, with his red, swollen face, told me to get out.

I picked up my daughter, took the suitcase I’d packed long ago and walked toward the door.

“Hmm, putting on an act. A woman who married far away—where could she even go? Don’t worry; she’ll regret it in less than five minutes and then I’ll make her kneel and apologize,” Ethan said arrogantly, watching me leave.