On Juneteenth, the most viral TikTok was about me.
The caption read: “Tycoon Rhys Harmon Takes Son to Celebrate His True Love’s Birthday–Is He Finally Divorcing
Viv?”
1 quietly hit repost. And then started taking down the balloons I’d prepared for our wedding anniversary.
Within minutes, my phone was buzzing non–stop.
“Honey,” my husband’s voice was panicked, “I saw your post let me explain. Our son kept begging to go to the Freedom Festival, so I…”
In the background, our son’s voice rang out cheerfully: “Daddy, Auntie Mel says I can sleep over at her house tonight!”
I surveyed the wreckage around me.
The balloons had deflated from waiting all day, the anniversary cake’s frosting dried and cracked from sitting untouched.
“Don’t bother explaining,” I heard myself say, “I understand everything.”
But Rhys, this time-
I’m done with both of you.
I was curled up on the couch watching TV when Rhys walked through the door with our son.
In the past, I would have rushed over immediately to take his coat, then kissed my son’s little cheeks.
But today, I didn’t move a muscle.
“Mommy, why aren’t you coming to kiss me today?” my son whined.
“Viv, why aren’t you taking my coat?” Rhys added, his tone casual but pointed.
I just turned up the volume on the TV. “Too busy.”
Hearing this, Rhys composed himself as he hung up his coat and removed the Mickey Mouse hat from our son’s head, placing it on the rack.
Then he turned to me with a sigh: “Viv, you can’t seriously still be sulking about that minor thing, can you?”
14:04
Screw You, Ext My New Life’s Hotter Than Your Money!
48.04
Chapter 1
“Our son suddenly wanted to go to the Freedom Festival, and I couldn’t exactly ruin his excitement, could I? Since I couldn’t handle him alone, I asked Melody to come along. How many more times do I need to explain this?”
Our son, standing nearby, huffed angrily, “Mommy, you’re being weird again! Auntie Mel never makes grumpy faces like you do!”
Rhys patted our son’s head before turning his gaze back to me,
“See that? Even our son can’t stand your attitude, Viv, why can’t you understand? When I try to appease you, I’m doing you a favor. If you’re going to throw tantrums, could you at least show some restraint?”
“I’m not angry,” I replied, my voice unnervingly steady: “I understand everything.”
In fact, I couldn’t understand more clearly,
Like last year, when I was bleeding out after my car accident, and he impatiently told me over the phone, “I’ve got something urgent to handle. I’ll come later–just call an ambulance yourself!”
Meanwhile, our son was shouting in the background: “Daddy, come quick! We found Auntie Mel’s kitten! Hurry up and come comfort her so she stops crying!”
So, I had to lie in a pool of my own blood, dialing 911 myself.
In the ambulance, the EMT asked if there was any family they could contact, and I replied with a trembling voice, “I have no family.”
While I was in loss, Rhys’s eyes scanned my face repeatedly before he finally exhaled wearily.
“Viv, do you really have to be like this?”
I met his gaze steadily. “Like what?”
Silence crystallized in the air between us.
Suddenly, he pulled a velvet box from his briefcase and tossed it carelessly onto the couch.
“Here. Happy anniversary.”
I glanced at the necklace inside the box, noticing the pendant engraved with the letters “ML“-Melody’s initials.
I couldn’t help but smirk bitterly.
Even my anniversary gift was someone else’s leftovers.
Yet on Melody’s birthday, he’d spent an entire afternoon with our son at the bakery, making her cake from scratch, though he’d never cooked before.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice emotionless.
14:05
Screw You, Ex! My New Life’s Hotter Than Your Money!
48.3
Chaat 1
Khys jumped to his feet. “Our son and I carefully picked this out for you, and you can’t even smile? Don’t you like it‘
I traced the glaring “ML” on the pendant: “I like it. Thank you.”
Suddenly, his expression looked like he’d been struck by lightning.
After all, in the past, no matter what gift he gave me–even if it was just corporate swag from company events–I’d treasure it like a priceless artifact and sweetly say, “Thank you, honey.”
Every single time, for years, without fail.
Even for our anniversaries, I’d start preparing three months in advance–custom photo albums, video montages–even flying to whatever city he was working in to surprise him.
But now? Hah!
I stood up from the sofa, tossed the box into the trash can without a second thought, and headed for the door.
When my hand barely touched the doorknob, Rhys suddenly grabbed my arm, clearly annoyed. “Viv, where the hel are you going this late? Our son is waiting for you to tuck him in.”
I looked at him, almost amused. “That’s funny, Rhys.”
“When I used to ask where you were going at 3 AM, you told me I had boundary issues.”
“Now that I’ve stopped asking, you’re even angrier and checking up on me instead.”
With that, I walked straight out the door.
As the door clicked shut behind me, I heard his suppressed roar:
“Always with the drama! If you don’t come back tonight, don’t bother coming back at all!”
His voice carried the certainty that I’d turn back, afraid of losing everything.
But I didn’t break stride, my eyes filled with contempt.
In his mind, I’d always be that pathetic clown–desperate, dependent, with no other options.
But even clowns get tired of their masks.
This marriage had become too suffocating.
So–I chose to quit.
14.00
