Chapter 4
Just then, Alan Simpson’s parents returned.
They merely gave me a passing glance before turning their attention to Alice Mitchell, showering her with warm, courteous words.
I had been with Alan Simpson for ten years, always putting his parents first–running errands, taking care of all the dirty and tiring work, doing more for them than I ever did for my own parents.
Mr. Simpson was barely noticeable at home, and as for Mrs. Simpson, she never liked me.
But throughout these years of work, I had been saving relentlessly, all in hopes of buying a house and getting married sooner,
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so that when I got pregnant, I could lessen Alan Simpson’s burden, and still have savings to care for them in their old age.
To save money, Alan Simpson and I never ate out at restaurants. My wardrobe was filled with clothes I bought when I was an intern, and I hadn’t bought new clothes in ages–not to mention the little indulgences most girls enjoy, like manicures and spa visits.
Seeing my poor expression, Mrs. Simpson. quickly came over to support me.
“Clara Walker, don’t be angry. The most important thing now is to let Alice have the baby”
“Just let her stay here for a few days.”
Mrs. Simpson glanced at Alice Mitchell, then mysteriously pulled me into the kitchen.
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“Don’t worry. Once the baby is born, I’ll make sure she leaves. If it’s a boy, you can raise him. If it’s a girl, I’ll have Alan Simpson dump her right away.“”
“This won’t harm you at all. You won’t even have to go through the pain of childbirth.”
I stared at her, completely stunned. Is this really the same mother–in–law I knew?
Although she was difficult to get along with and rather stingy, her words shattered all my beliefs, making me want to vomit.
“You want a grandson, don’t you?”
Mrs. Simpson was taken aback for a moment before breaking into a bright smile and nodding vigorously.
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“Yes.”
I smiled, pulling my hand out of her grasp and wiping it clean with a cloth.
“I want to divorce Alan Simpson.”
Once love gets tainted with dog poop, it’s best to throw it away quickly, or your hands will be stained too.
In fact, I had already decided this when I left the police station. I’m a person with a single track mind- I can’t tolerate any grit in my eyes, let alone a relationship filled with flaws and stains.
Mrs. Simpson’s smile immediately vanished, and she sidestepped in front of me, blocking my path.
“Clara Walker, my son hasn’t treated you
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badly. You can’t be so ungrateful! You can’t have children yourself, so are you going to let him die without a successor?”
Why am I the one being blamed for not having children?
I had never even had sex with Alan Simpson. Wasn’t it his own choice to avoid that step?
I shot her a glare, marched into the living room, and threw the cloth straight at Alice Mitchell’s face.
She screamed and jumped up, and I grabbed a cup from the coffee table and threw it at her.
Alice Mitchell was drenched in the liquid.
“Get out! You’re not welcome here!”
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Mrs. Simpson shoved me aside, cursing viciously at me.
“You little slut! You dare act like this in front of your elders! You’re nothing but a bastard, raised without a mother!”
Her words pierced my heart.
My parents had gone away for work when I was very young. I was raised by the kindness of others, eating whatever food I could get until I graduated from college and was finally brought back to live with them.
That’s why my relationship with my parents was so distant. I’d always rented my own place and rarely went home.
I screamed like I was losing my mind, shoving and cursing,and got them all kicked
out.
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Perhaps my wild, angry behavior frightened Mrs. Simpson, because she only reacted when I slammed the door shut.
“Clara Walker, if you think you can divorce my son, you’re dreaming!”
“You two are legally married–shared property, shared debts!”
“You have to pay off all the debts my son owes!”
I leaned against the wall, listening to her shrill shouts from outside the door. I felt utterly exhausted, my temples thumping like someone was pounding them with fists, and my heart raced with anxiety.
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