Chapter 3

Her words of gratitude were laced with smug satisfaction.

They sat comfortably in the warm car while I stood alone in the cold wind outside.

The contrast couldn't have been starker.

"Jack, do you even remember who your wife is?" I snapped.

My words successfully darkened Jack's face. "Even if you are my wife, that doesn't give you the right to be unreasonable!"

"It's not like I'm asking you to walk home. What's the big deal about taking a cab? Why are you making such a fuss?"

"Emma, when will you learn to be more considerate?"

With that, he slammed the car door shut and started the engine.

"Instead of arguing with me, why don't you hurry up and get a cab?"

"Don't make everyone late for New Year's Eve dinner!"

At the mention of dinner, Jack's parents chimed in: "Emma, remember to buy some fresh vegetables on your way back."

"The eggs at home might be expired too, don't forget to buy some."

"Oh, and Jack's father hasn't been feeling well lately. He can't eat anything too greasy. Try to keep the New Year's Eve dinner light, okay?"

They seemed to have forgotten that I had been kicked out of the car and still had no idea how to get back.

Yet they shamelessly continued to treat me like a maid, bossing me around.

Even Chloe joined in, watching the drama unfold: "Can Emma cook everything?"

Jack nodded without hesitation.

She excitedly leaned out the car window, looking at me challengingly: "Then I'd like some braised meatballs!"

With that, she closed the window.

Jack didn't even give me another glance as he stepped on the gas and drove away.

The car hadn't gone far when Jack's phone call came through.

But it wasn't because he had a change of heart or was worried about my safety. Instead, he was giving me orders.

"How come you haven't gotten a cab yet? What are you even doing?"

"Also, Chloe isn't feeling well, so I can't drive too fast. Since you'll be taking a cab, tell the driver to hurry. Get back first and prepare the New Year's Eve dinner we just ordered. We're all tired from the long drive, so hurry up and do your job!"

I used to be a pampered rich girl who never had to lift a finger.

It was only after I got together with Jack that I learned how to cook.

We always had a housekeeper at home.

But they said they couldn't get used to the housekeeper's cooking and insisted that I, the daughter-in-law, should cook myself.

I had complained before, but Jack always shut me down:

"My parents have worked hard all their lives. They just want to enjoy being taken care of by their daughter-in-law. Can't you just indulge them a little?"

With that one sentence about filial piety, he successfully trapped me in a cage of serving them for three years.

Naturally, the New Year's Eve dinner also fell on my shoulders every year. I didn't even have the chance to ask Jack to help out.

Because his mother would say, "It's bad luck for men to enter the kitchen." And she would drag Jack out immediately.

In the eyes of Jack's parents, and even Jack himself, I wasn't a wife or a daughter-in-law.

I was just a servant catering to their every need.

Listening to his arrangements, whatever remnants of affection I had for Jack were destroyed by his own hands.

At that moment, I suddenly woke up.

If there's no love left, why keep this garbage of a man around for the New Year? Wouldn't that just bring bad luck for the coming year?

I immediately sent a message to my lawyer, asking him to prepare the divorce papers.

I looked indifferently in the direction they had left and smiled.

Then I dialed 911: "I want to report a crime. My husband deliberately abandoned me on the highway."