Chapter 3

Lily froze for a moment, then turned to me and sneered, "The only reason my dad married you was so you could serve our family. You're nothing more than a maid! And anyway, we were just visiting Mommy Victoria for a little while—what's wrong with that?"

"Mommy Victoria?" I felt as though I had been struck, staring at Lily in disbelief. My eyes then shifted to James and his parents. None of them said a word to correct her.

"That's right! The woman across the garden is Mommy Victoria, and you're just an boring old woman!" Lily announced, her tone so matter-of-fact that it stung even more.

I couldn't help but laugh. At first, it was a chuckle, but soon I was laughing loudly. "Hahaha! James Harper, are we living in the Middle Ages now? Have I really been reduced to being some kind of boring old woman?"

James quickly averted his gaze, his head hanging low.

But Lily stood there with her hands on her hips, undeterred. "Mommy Victoria is so much better than you. She's prettier, kinder, and she smells good! You always smell like cooking oil—it's disgusting!"

Smack!

My hand connected with Lily's cheek before I even realized what I was doing. For a fleeting moment, I thought I might regret it. But as soon as it was done, I felt nothing but satisfaction. To raise a child like this? I'd rather raise a dog.

"Lily Harper, do you even know what you're saying?!"

Lily clutched her face in shock, tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn’t expected me to actually hit her. Wailing, she ran to her grandparents and clung to them. "Grandpa, Grandma, she hit me!"

James immediately turned on me, shouting, "Emily, what on earth are you doing? She's your daughter!"

"My daughter?" I let out a bitter laugh. "She calls another woman Mommy Victoria and treats me like the maid. A daughter like that? I don’t need her."

Margaret, my mother-in-law, wiped Lily’s tears and shot me a venomous glare. "Emily, can you stop making a scene? You’re the one who couldn’t give James a son. And do you know how much effort we put into helping you? Prayers, medicines—what was the result? A complete waste of time and money. You should be grateful we let you stay in this family!"

Robert, my father-in-law, chimed in with righteous indignation. "Exactly! You brought shame to our family by not giving James a son. I told James to find someone else to have a son—what’s wrong with that? You should be thankful we haven’t kicked you out yet."

Their words left me momentarily stunned, as though I had been transported back to a feudal era. It took me a moment to gather myself.

"James Harper," I said, turning to him, "Are you hearing what your parents are saying?"

James clenched his jaw but refused to meet my gaze. Instead, he coldly asked me, "Emily, what do you want?"

"What do I want?" I scoffed. "James, you're the one having an affair!"

"I..." He turned his head away, avoiding my eyes.

That was it. That was all I needed to see. I finally understood everything.

I had fallen for James because I thought he was honest and loyal, even if a little dull. He wasn’t flashy or romantic, but at least he didn’t gamble, drink excessively, or go to brothels. Or so I had thought.

But I had been so, so wrong.

He wasn’t incapable of romance or affection. He simply didn’t think I was worth the effort. All those late nights he claimed to be working overtime or traveling for business? Lies. During my postpartum recovery, when he said he was too tired to help or spend time with me? Lies. Every excuse, every justification—it all made sense now. He had been spending his time across the garden in another woman’s arms.

And his parents? They had never truly accepted me. Before Lily was born, they made me drink every kind of bitter herbal medicine, dragged me to temples to pray, and even forced some foul concoction down my throat, calling it “divine water.” They told me to keep trying until I gave them a son to carry on the Harper name.

But after Lily was born, they stopped pressuring me for a second child. I had been naïve enough to ask James about it, and he’d assured me they must have come to terms with it.

Now I understood. It wasn’t acceptance. They had just found a better option.

Wiping away a stray tear, I faced them all with steely determination. "Divorce. And all of you—get out of this house!"

"Get out? You think you can just kick us out? If anyone’s leaving, it’s you!" Margaret snapped, her voice dripping with arrogance.

I let out a cold laugh and stared directly at her. "Why don’t you ask James who bought this house?"