Tears streamed down my face, I couldn't stop it.

Did Leon really think I wanted to be out of the house every day? That I enjoyed working 15-hour shifts?

Since the day our daughter was born, he hadn’t held a single job. He spent his days chasing pipe dreams of getting rich through some mythical startup that never existed beyond his head.

Meanwhile, the mortgage, the bills, groceries, daycare—everything—fell on my shoulders.

If I stayed home all day, what exactly were we supposed to eat? How were we supposed to survive?

And yet, after all the sleepless nights, the constant hustle, the sacrifices… what I got in return was public humiliation. From my own husband.

I wiped the tears off my face and, for the first time, defied him. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said quietly but firmly. “I’m not apologizing.”

Right after, I turned and walked toward my daughter.

The crowd buzzed with whispers. Leon’s pride took a hit in front of everyone and he snapped. Out of nowhere, he kicked me—hard—from behind.

I wasn’t ready. I stumbled forward and crashed down, landing right on top of my daughter. She opened her mouth, her tiny lips gasping for air—but no sound came out.

My heart shattered. I didn’t even look back. I scooped her up and ran. I flagged down the first cab I could find and rushed her to the hospital.

Behind me, I could still hear Leon shouting with rage, “If you leave right now, don’t bother coming back!”

Casey spent the entire night in the emergency room. It was touch and go, but she pulled through.

The next morning, I found a tiny, run-down apartment near my office and signed the lease. I drained the four thousand dollars I’d been saving—money I had originally planned to give Gwendolyn*—and used it to hire a part-time nanny so Casey would be safe during the day.

Once she was settled, I rushed off to work, still exhausted, still shaken.

I had barely stepped into the office when my phone rang.

It was Leon.

“Carolyn, where the hell have you been?!” Leon barked the moment I picked up.

“You didn’t come home all night! My mom was so upset she can’t even get out of bed! You better come back right now and apologize! And pick up some crab and shrimp on the way—make her something nice for dinner!”

“I have to work. I’m not coming back,” I said coldly.

“The hell you say?! You’ve got some nerve now, huh?” he snapped. “Fine. Don’t come back. But transfer this month’s living expenses to my mom. I don’t care where you go after that!”

The thing is, Gwendolyn never watched our kid out of the kindness of her heart.

From the very beginning, Leon insisted that we “show her respect” by paying her—four thousand yuan a month. In our small town, that was a lot. For that price, we could’ve hired a trained nanny.

I agreed—because it was still the most I could afford.

Gwendolyn had smiled at me, saying, “Carol, come on. We’re family—do you think I’d spend that money on myself? Of course it’ll all go toward the household.”

Yeah. Right.

Whenever we needed anything decent for dinner—anything beyond eggs and rice—she expected me to buy it myself. The so-called “household money” barely covered a thing. I was still footing most of the bills.

Then, there was her schedule.

Every time I got home from work, she'd vanish—leaving the baby and the kitchen for me to deal with while she ran off to play mahjong. Her time and that four grand, mostly got spent at the card table.

The pressure crushed me. I ended up picking up a second job on weekends just to keep up.

I kept telling myself: If she’s watching the baby, then it’s worth it. I can tough it out.

But after what happened yesterday… after watching my daughter nearly die while Gwendolyn cried her way out of taking any responsibility…

I wasn’t going to keep swallowing this anymore.

“It’s only the first of the month,” I said calmly. “And your mom didn’t watch the baby at all. She won’t be watching her anymore either.”

Leon paused, stunned—then his voice turned sharp. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re saying you’re not paying the living expenses anymore?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “She’s not taking care of me or our daughter and she’s not the one who gave birth to her. If you think your mom needs money, then you pay her.”

Leon practically growled through clenched teeth. “Fine. Fine. Great! You’re right—she didn’t give birth to you. But you’re my wife. And if my company goes under because of cash flow, that’s on you. Transfer fifty thousand yuan to me. Now. Or deal with the consequences.”

Fifty thousand?

Leon was really out of his mind.

I was juggling three jobs. Even with all of them combined, I barely pulled in a little over ten thousand a month.

After the mortgage, his mom’s four-thousand “respect fee,” and the chunks of my paycheck he regularly demanded in the name of “investing in the company,” I hadn’t been able to save a damn thing over the years.

He thought I was sitting on stacks of cash while he played entrepreneur with monopoly money?

What a joke.

Besides, that so-called company of his. It only burns money and never makes profit. Truly, it’s better off going bankrupt sooner rather than later.

Before I could even get a word in, Leon hung up on me with a loud click.

That evening, back in the tiny rental apartment, I was putting my baby to sleep while trying to figure out if this marriage was even worth holding on to anymore.

Leon and I have had our fair share of fights over the years, plenty of yelling and arguing—but he never laid a hand on me. Until today. He hit me. In public.

Everyone says, if it happens once, it’ll happen again. Moreover, when someone like Gwendolynwas constantly whispering poison in his ear…

As I was lost in thought, Casey reached out her tiny hands, seemingly asking for his dad. Looking at her innocent little face, I just couldn’t bring myself to make any decisions. Not yet.

So the day changed. Soon as I got to work, something felt really, really, off.

I noticed coworkers whispering behind my back. The moment I got close, they scattered. The way they looked at me—like I was some kind of walking headline.

Just then, a familiar voice burst into tears in the manager’s office. "Please, you’ve got to help me! My daughter-in-law hasn’t come home in three days! She has all our money—we don’t have a cent left at home!"

"I know I was wrong. Let her yell at me, hit me, kill me even—just please, don’t punish my son like this..." and so the sobbing continued.

I could hear our manager in the office trying to calm my mother in-law down in between sobs.

Outside, my coworkers were murmuring among themselves. My mind went completely blank, a loud ringing in my ears as the whispers grew louder.

Then, Gwendolyn saw me. She rushed over—and with a loud thud, dropped to her knees right in front of me.

Without much pause, she started banging her head on the floor, over and over again. The sound alone made the crowd of onlookers shrink back in shock.

“Carol!” she cried out, “I’m begging you! I’ll get on my knees if that’s what it takes—just forgive me, please!”

“It’s my fault for not raising Leo right. Yell at me, hit me if you want, but please, don’t make my son suffer like this!”

“We don’t even have money for food anymore! Leo and I haven’t eaten all day. I’m begging you—have some mercy and give the money back to Leo!”

The crowd broke into a frenzy of whispers.

“Oh my god… I always thought Carolyn was so kind and quiet.”

“Yeah, can you believe it? Won’t even give her in-law money for food and she's helping her raise her kid? Wow, never thought she’d be that kind of person…”

I stood frozen, staring at Gwendolyn groveling at my feet, her forehead red from all the bowing, the office now filled with murmurs and side-eyes.

Fury welled up in my chest, but I couldn’t say a word to defend myself. For one, I’d never talked about my personal life at work. No one here had the faintest idea what really went on behind closed doors.

Second, never in my imagination Gwendolyn would show up at my working place, out of nowhere, flipping the truth on its head and turning me into the villain in front of everyone.

“Carol,” my manager walked over, frowning. “Is your in-law telling the truth? And, you really shouldn’t be so hard on your husband too, you know. Just give your mother the money, alright? This scene is making everyone uncomfortable.”

I bit down hard on my lip, trying to hold back the mix of anger and helplessness that was threatening to spill out as tears.

“I don’t have any money left,” I said through gritted teeth.

After paying the rent and the nanny’s wages, what did they think I had left?

Honestly, there’s food at home—rice, vegetables. There’s no way they’re actually going hungry.

Still, the whispering around me didn’t stop.

“Seriously? Carolyn makes more than I do. And didn’t her mother just say her son gave all his money to her?”

“Unbelievable… that old woman'’s literally bleeding from her forehead and Carolyn still won’t give her a dime. How cold-hearted.”

Gwendolyn didn’t say more, she continued knocking her forehead on the floor and cried like her whole world had fallen apart. She looked so pitiful, anyone passing by would've thought I was the villain in some family tragedy.

In the end, my manager sighed, pulled a thousand dollars from his own wallet and handed it to her. Then he turned to accounting and said, “Deduct it from Carolyn’s paycheck next month.”

After we finally got Gwendolyn out of the office, I was still seething inside. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t calm down.

I called Leon the second I stepped outside. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped. “You let your mother show up at my job and cause a scene like that? Do you realize how badly that affected me at work? What were you thinking?”

Leon let out a cold laugh. “She’s got legs—how was I supposed to stop her?” he said casually. “Besides, you’re the one making money and not giving us any. Whether you lose that job or not—it doesn’t affect me at all.”

“If I lose my job, how do you expect the mortgage to get paid?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Leon didn’t even hesitate. “Not my problem. That’s on you. Figure it out.”

That was it. The last straw.

The house was in both our names, but I’d been the only one paying the mortgage. Month after month. He never once thanked me. In fact, he acted like it was my duty—like I owed it to him.

Now, he had the nerve to let his mother stir up drama behind my back?

I was so angry, all I wanted was to burn it all down. Blow it up, take him with me and walk away from the ashes. But then, I thought of Casey. My little daughter. So small, so innocent. Still needing me for everything.

Instantly, my fury settled. Cold clarity took its place. If this couldn’t go on, then it had to end.

“Let’s get a divorce, Leon,” I said calmly. “We’ll split the house fifty-fifty. The car’s mine—pre-marital asset. And as for Casey… well, your family never wanted a girl anyway. She’ll stay with me.”

Leon agreed faster than I expected. No hesitation, no fight.

That very afternoon, we went down to the City Hall and filed for divorce. A month later, we got the final paperwork—officially over.

Walking out of that building, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: relief.

I thought I was finally free. Free from him. Free from his mother. Free from their toxic mess.

But I was wrong.

The very next day, a letter arrived at my office—debt collection from a loan shark.

The receptionist handed it to me with a raised eyebrow and a look I couldn’t quite read. Part curiosity, part judgment.

“Carol, what the hell have you been doing?” my manager asked, waving a document at me. “You had control over the family finances—why on earth would you take out a loan shark loan?”

Around me, coworkers perked up instantly, eyes lighting up with gossip. Everyone was listening.

I took the file, completely confused. Then, the moment I looked inside, my heart dropped.

It was a formal contract—a loan taken out under my name. Three hundred thousand dollars. From a high-interest lender.

Right there: a clear copy of my ID and even a scan of my vehicle registration—the very car that was listed under my name. The terms were brutal: repay the full amount within ten days, or they’d repossess the car.

I flipped through it again, stunned, checking every detail. My name. My ID. My car.

It was all legit.

The date on the loan was the same afternoon Leon had asked me for seventy five thousand dollars.

That car… it was a wedding gift from my parents, given to me before the marriage. It’s always been in my name—but Leon was the one who drove it, used it, treated it like his own.

Now, I finally understood. He had my car. My ID and apparently, zero conscience. So, when he said, “Face the consequences yourself,” this is what he meant.

No wonder he didn’t argue at all when I brought up splitting the assets—he’d already squeezed twenty thousand out of my car behind my back. After the divorce, I was the one left holding the debt.

That bastard! How did I ever fall in love with someone like that?

I was shaking, hands trembling with rage as I called Leon.

“Leon,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady, “what the hell is this about the car being used as collateral for a loan?”

The office went quiet. My coworkers weren’t even pretending not to listen. Everyone was tuned in.

Leon gave a short, mocking laugh. “How should I know, Carolyn? It’s your car. Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that question?”

“Actually, I was about to ask you—you’ve been holding onto all the family money and now this huge loan shows up. What shady business have you gotten yourself into, huh?”

“You’ve been gone for days… what, couldn’t wait to run off and blow it all on some boy toy?”

There was a snort of laughter somewhere behind me. Then another.

I froze.

That bastard, the audacity of his tone. His voice was clear and the whole office could catch it albeit a little bit.

I looked up and saw my coworkers who were pretending to be busy all of the sudden, pretending they hadn’t heard every word. But I could feel it. The shift. The judgment in their eyes.

The whispers had already begun, even if I couldn’t hear them all.

“Wow… Carolyn always seemed so put together. Who knew she was that type of woman?”

I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself, to scream—but before I could say anything, the line went dead. He’d hung up.

Just like that, everyone went back to their desks—like nothing had happened. Like they hadn’t just watched my entire reputation get dragged through the mud in real time.

I could feel it. The weight of every glance. Every sideways looks. Like I was something to be pitied.

Or worse—laughed at.

“Really, she could’ve just lived a normal life,” someone muttered behind me. “Instead, she’s out hiring escorts and messing with loan sharks. Tsk, tsk.”

That afternoon, I was fired.

“Carolyn,” my manager said, not even able to look me in the eye. “You’ve always been diligent, but your personal issues are disrupting our workplace. Our company can’t be caught in the crosshairs of loan sharks. I think it’s best if you find employment elsewhere.”

Then, as if that weren’t enough, my manager tried to “advise” me.

“Carol, these days, it’s rare to find a mother-in-law like yours. She's willing to help raise your child and all. Next to that, your husband gave you all his income. You should really learn to appreciate what you had. Don’t be so… impulsive.”

A good mother in-law? My husband gave me all his income? I was the impulsive one?

The rage that had been simmering finally boiled over. I walked out of that office building with one thought burning in my chest: Enough is enough.

I didn’t hesitate. I walked straight into the police station.