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Every time my husband and I fought, my six-year-old daughter screamed at me: "You're USELESS! Leave Daddy alone!" "You're USELESS! GET OUT!" "You're USELESS! Nobody wants you here!" I thought she was just being a brat. Until one day, I saw her jumping into another woman's arms, happily calling her "Mommy." My six-year-old daughter had chosen my husband’s mistress over me! Then I heard my husband say he wouldn't divorce me because he couldn't give up his live-in maid. FUCK IT! I was done! My husband treated me like dirt. My daughter wanted a homewrecker as her mother. This whole family saw me as their live-in maid. They weren't my family—they were my curse. I was kicking them out of my world! So I set a trap. Caught my husband screwing his mistress in our bed and dragged his entire family in to watch the show. My daughter rushed in to protect her cheating dad and his mistress! I looked at my ungrateful daughter and said: "Everything here is mine. Not yours. Not his. Now get out—take your dad and your new mommy with you." I got all the evidence of his affair. That bastard left with nothing. My daughter couldn’t stand being poor. She called me crying, begging me to take her back home. I smiled. "Baby, it’s your call. You take it—you deal with it. I’m not taking any regrets." Owen turns into a nightmare when he drinks—up all night, causing chaos. This year for New Year's, I made the entire feast by myself. I was exhausted, and I just didn't have it in me to deal with his drunk ass. So I told him to sleep in the other room with his brother. But no—he started slurring his words and picking a fight with me. And his family? They just sat there, munching snacks, enjoying the show. My mother-in-law, Diane, chomped on a cookie and said: "Ivy, you're being unreasonable." "Owen's drunk. He needs you by his side. You're his wife—how can you not care about your own husband?" I couldn't hold it in anymore. I shot back: "Oh, I don't care about my husband? Sure, Diane. But you care about your son, don't you?" "So tonight, YOU take care of him. I'm done." Her face turned green. And that's when my daughter, Bella, piped up. She was nestled in Owen's arms, playing her favorite role: the little judge. "Mommy, Daddy's the head of this house. You have to listen to him. If he says he's sleeping here, then he's sleeping here." "Daddy works so hard to support us. What's wrong with him having a drink? You're his wife—it's your job to take care of him." Bella put on her best adult act. Her tiny voice spitting out words that cut right through me. I was exhausted, and this time, I wasn't letting it slide. "Your dad supports this family? What about me? Who pays your tuition? Who buys your clothes?" "You don't support us! Daddy supports you!" Bella planted her hands on her hips and screamed at me. "You don't even go to work! You're a parasite!" Her voice got shriller and shriller. I just stood there, stunned. I'm an online instructor. I work from home. Every single day, I teach my classes *and* handle everything else—housework, childcare, cooking... All of it just automatically became my job. But Bella didn't see any of that as real work. It was almost funny. I turned to Owen. He was still grinning like an idiot, like none of this had anything to do with him. "Owen. Tell your daughter—do I contribute to this family or not?" Owen raised an eyebrow. Then, in the most sarcastic, mocking tone: "Yeah, sure. You contribute. You're the MVP of this house. We all gotta bow down to you now, right?" "Bella, stop arguing with your mom. We can't win against her anyway." Then he scooped Bella up and kissed her on the cheek. "Hmph. Mommy's just being unreasonable!" Bella huffed. My mother-in-law was grinning ear to ear. She pinched Bella's cheek. "Oh, sweetie, you better stop. If you make your mom too mad, your dad's gonna have to smooth things over." Bella pouted. "Daddy's already working so hard. Why should he have to make her feel better?" Diane let out an exaggerated sigh. "Because in this house, your mom's the real boss. Even Grandma has to watch her mood." "No way! Daddy's the boss!" The relatives all chuckled, like this was some cute little comedy sketch. Diane was laughing the hardest. "Look at our Bella, all grown up. She knows how to look out for her daddy now." Seeing my face darken, she turned to me with a fake-sweet smile. "Kids say the darndest things, Ivy. You're not seriously going to get mad at a child, are you?" My brother-in-law chimed in too: "Yeah, she's just a kid. You're not really gonna take it personally, right?" The whole family moved on, laughing and chatting about something else. Turning my pain into punchline. I stood there, watching them all enjoy themselves. I gave everything, and no one was on my side? Fine. This house—I’m done with it. The topic died. My brother-in-law, Evan, was scrolling through TikTok. He came across some trending video. In it, parents asked their kid: "If it's the end of the world and you can only keep three things, what would you choose?" The little boy crossed everything else out. He only kept Mom, Dad, and Grandma. Evan got all excited and pulled Bella over. "Hey, kiddo, what about you? What would you pick?" Bella blinked a few times, thinking. Then she pointed at the screen. "If it's the end of the world, I'd throw Mommy away first!" "Why?" "Because Mommy's the most useless!" "I'd keep Daddy, Grandma, and my teddy bear!" Diane snorted out a laugh. "Because Mommy's the most useless!" She repeated my daughter's words like they were the punchline of the year. "Bella, sweetie, you'd keep your teddy bear but not your mom?" Bella wrinkled her nose at me. "Because Mommy's the most useless. Duh." Hearing my own daughter—my favorite person in the world—trash me like that? My heart turned to ice. I looked at them all, laughing together like one big happy family. And I just... couldn't do it anymore. I stood up to leave. Owen caught on first. He grabbed my arm. "...Ivy, come on. You're not seriously mad, are you?" Evan finally wiped the grin off his face when he saw the mood shift. "Sis, we were just messing around." "That's your idea of messing around?" "You guys enjoy your New Year's. I'm done." "Ivy! Stop being ridiculous! It's not that big of a deal!" Owen's face darkened. His grip on my wrist got tighter. Bella jumped up too, stomping her little foot. "Mommy's a big meanie! You can walk home! That car's Daddy's anyway—you can't drive it!" I actually laughed. I turned to her, speaking slowly and clearly. "The car isn't your dad's. It's mine. I bought it. And I'll drive it whenever the hell I want. And you? You're not riding in it anymore." Then I yanked the door open and walked out. From their place to mine was at least 200 miles. It was already dark. Snow was coming down hard. But none of that stopped me. I swapped the tires for snow tires. Drove for nearly six hours straight. Finally made it home. Owen didn't call until the next day. His voice was lazy, unbothered. "Where'd you go? Just come back already. Everyone's waiting for you to make dinner." "You had to make a scene on New Year's, huh? Bella's been whining for your honey-glazed ham. Stop being dramatic." My voice was flat. "I'm already home." Silence on the other end. A few seconds. He didn't ask if I was okay. He asked: "...You left? Who's gonna cook today?" I lost it. "You want to know who's cooking? How about YOU? Or your precious mother? Or maybe Evan can step the fuck up for once!" My voice cracked, shaking with rage. "Your sister-in-law didn't show. Your brother's wife didn't show. So it was just ME—slaving away in that kitchen, cooking for ALL of you ungrateful assholes while you sat around laughing at me!" "I'm DONE. Done cooking. Done being your maid. Done being the punchline!" "Someone else can cook. Or you can all STARVE for all I care!" I hung up before he could say another word. I spent the entire week of New Year's break at home. Alone. And honestly? It was fucking blissful. The only thing that ruined it was Owen's constant stream of messages. He tagged me in the family group chat: [Ivy, do you have ANY idea how hard it's been for Mom, cooking for everyone by herself since you left?] [You're so selfish!] I fired back: [Oh, so YOU'RE the devoted son now? Then why don't YOU help your mom cook? Stop outsourcing your filial piety to me.] That shut him up real quick. But then Diane jumped in: [What kind of nonsense is that? Men don't belong in the kitchen! I'm HAPPY to cook for my son!] I replied: [Great. Then keep cooking. Because I'm not doing it anymore.] Then I left the group chat. On the last day of the holiday, Owen came back with Bella. He looked exhausted, disheveled. The second he walked through the door, he started complaining. "This is all your fault. You took the car, so I had to drag Bella onto the train. Do you know what a nightmare that was?" Bella chimed in: "Bad Mommy!" Owen kept nagging. "Grab the suitcase, would you? There's a week's worth of dirty laundry in there. Wash it. Oh, and that blue puffer jacket—I need it for work tomorrow." I didn't even look up. "You want to wear it? Wash it yourself. Stop ordering me around." "Ivy! Enough already!" We were about to explode into another fight. But I was just... tired. Too tired to argue anymore. So I cut straight to the point. "Owen. Let's get a divorce." He froze. "...What the hell are you talking about?" "I'm serious." I pulled out the divorce papers and slapped them down in front of him. That's when he finally panicked. "Wait—are you doing this because of what happened over New Year's? Bella and I were just joking around." "Yeah. Because of 'that.'" "You and Bella don't need a wife and a mother. You need a maid you can shit on and boss around whenever you feel like it." "I'm done. Sign the papers." Owen went silent for a long moment. Then he tried again, his voice softer this time. "Come on, don't be like this. Fine. I was wrong, okay?" He switched tactics. "Bella, go cheer your mom up. She's on strike. Come on, sweetheart, apologize to her." Bella glared at me. "I didn't do anything wrong! I'm NOT apologizing! Mommy's just being a baby! I hate Mommy!" "Bella!" Owen actually yelled at her for once. Bella burst into tears immediately. But instead of calming down, she turned all her anger on me. She yanked off the little water bottle clipped to her bag and hurled it at me without warning. It slammed into my leg. Hard. The pain shot through my thigh. "Mommy's a big meanie! I don't want Mommy anymore! Daddy, just divorce her! I like Aunt Heather way more..." "BELLA!" Owen's voice shot up. He smacked her on the butt. I stood there, stunned. It took me a few seconds to process what she'd just said. Then I slowly lifted my eyes to Owen. "Who the hell is Aunt Heather?" 【11524】

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Every time my husband and I fought, my six-year-old daughter screamed at me: