"Camille, hurry up and make dinner; it’s already late, and everyone’s hungry,” my mother-in-law urged.

I didn't reply to her and turned to Mallory with a smile. “Mallory, you and Henry grew up together, so I assume you used to eat here a lot?”

“Of course! Back then, Henry and I practically had every meal together,” Mallory chirped.

“So, after all these years abroad, you must really miss Mom’s cooking, right?” I looked at my mother-in-law and continued, “Mom, shouldn’t you get started on dinner for Mallory?”

After speaking, I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Shortly after, Henry came over, annoyed. “How could you make Mom cook? You know her health isn’t great! Get up and make dinner.”

Feigning surprise, I replied, “Mom, you’re unwell? Is it serious? Why didn’t you tell me?”

My mother-in-law snapped back, irritated. “Who’s unwell? I’m fine! Stop trying to curse me.”

“Then why don’t you want to cook for Mallory? Don’t feel like it?” I said in amusement.

Instantly, her expression soured. “Who said I wouldn’t cook?”

She went to the kitchen and spent the next two hours preparing dinner. When it was ready, Nicole pulled Mallory into my seat. “Sis, Mallory is a guest; you don’t mind giving up your spot, right?”

My mother-in-law chimed in, handing me a bowl. “If sitting at the edge is uncomfortable, why don’t you take your plate to the kitchen and eat there? And while you’re at it, clean up a bit.”

So now I wasn’t even allowed at the table.

“No need; you all enjoy. My friend invited me out, so I’ll eat with them,” I flatly declined.

Henry looked irritated. “We’re leaving for our trip tomorrow, and you’re still going out? Did you pack yet?”

“Don’t you have hands? Why don’t you pack?” I argued back.

Stunned by my response, he fell silent, and I headed out.

I treated myself to a high-end dinner at a fancy restaurant, ordering steak, wine, and lobster. With my own money, I could dine wherever I wanted. I stayed out until well past midnight, enjoying my time.

When I returned, the house was dark. Despite me being out so late, no one had called or texted to check in. Apparently, they had all gone to bed without a second thought.

Feeling my way through the darkness, I entered the bedroom and sat on the bed, only to be startled by a piercing scream.

"Ah!"

I quickly turned on the light and saw Mallory lying in my spot. The sight made my blood boil. Without thinking, I slapped her across the face.

Mallory burst into tears, and Henry sat up, shielding her. “Why did you hit Mallory? We were just talking and must have fallen asleep accidentally.”

“Oh, really? So you just ‘accidentally’ ended up in bed together, holding each other?” I huffed in anger.

“We were waiting for you! You were out so late, so Mallory stayed to keep me company. We talked for a while, and then we fell asleep. It’s perfectly normal!” Henry thundered.

“Then why didn’t you call or text me? Too busy talking with your ‘best friend’? And you two couldn’t wait in the living room and had to come to the bedroom?!”

Henry scowled. “You’re being unreasonable, Camille!”

I was done arguing. I turned to Mallory. “I’m back now, so why don't you leave? Or do you expect all three of us to share the bed?”

Ignoring my remarks, Mallory clutched her face and whimpered, “Henry, it really hurts.”

Henry, filled with concern, replied, “I’ll get you some medicine.”

After they left the room, I immediately shut the bedroom door and locked it. Then I changed all the bed sheets and covers, put on earbuds, and went straight to sleep.

The next morning, Henry stormed up to me, furious. “What was that last night? I knocked for a long time, yet you didn’t open the door! Mom and Dad woke up because of it! You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Sneering, I deadpanned, “Yes, I did it on purpose. I thought I’d give you a chance to sleep with Mallory. You should be thanking me.”

Hearing my words, Henry looked exasperated. “Are you nuts, Camille? Why would I sleep with Mallory? You’re my wife!”

“Oh, so you still remember I’m your wife? I thought once Mallory came back, I’d be out of the picture,” I said dryly.

At that moment, Mallory stepped in, trying to play peacemaker. “Please, don’t argue because of me. We’re going on vacation; let’s not let this spoil our mood. I’d feel so guilty if my presence caused any tension.”

Henry turned to me. “Look how understanding Mallory is—unlike you, with your petty attitude!”

My mother-in-law chimed in. “Camille, your temper is getting worse. Locking your husband out? This is unacceptable, but we’ll overlook it this time since we're going on a trip.”

Then my father-in-law added, “This is what happens when she’s spoiled. A husband is the head of the family, but she locked him out! It's disgraceful! A daughter-in-law like this needs a good beating to set her straight!”

Nicole giggled. “Sis, with your bad temper, my brother might just leave you one day.”

I noticed Mallory watching me with a smug, triumphant look.

Without defending me, Henry pulled all the luggage in front of me and said, “Alright, we have to get moving to catch our flight. Let’s go.”

My mother-in-law handed over all the bags. “Camille, take care of our luggage. You’re taking the train, so it’ll be easier for you to carry everything. This way, we don’t have to worry about the airport baggage limits.”

I looked at the eight enormous suitcases, each over 50 pounds, and smiled. “Sure, you all go ahead; I’ll catch up.”

Once they left, I immediately called a junk removal service.

When they arrived, the worker looked surprised. “Are you sure you want to get rid of these? They’re in good shape. What’s inside?”

“Just clothes and household items. Nothing worth much. If you find anything useful, keep it; otherwise, feel free to discard it,” I said indifferently.

After paying the disposal fee, they took away all the eight suitcases. Then I called my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. Finally, I booked a first-class sleeper for a solo trip.

Not long after I settled in, Henry called.

“Camille, the hotel can’t find our reservation. Can you send me the booking details?”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you—I canceled it,” I nonchalantly replied.

After hearing that, Henry thundered, “Why would you do that? Where are we supposed to stay tonight?”

“Wherever you want.” I shrugged.

“Camille, are you insane? Why would you cancel our reservation?” he roared in rage.

“Seriously, Henry? You’re taking your childhood sweetheart on vacation, and you still need your wife to handle hotel bookings? What would your colleagues and bosses think if they knew?” I retorted in annoyance.