In the living room, my mother-in-law flicked an apple core onto the floor, waiting for me to clean it up.
"Why are you back so late?" she snapped. "Hurry up and make dinner. You upset my son and drove him away, and I haven't even punished you for it yet!"
In the past, I swallowed my pride for Thomas's sake. Now that I was discarding the son, the mother meant nothing to me.
"If you want to eat, cook it yourself."
I walked past her and bolted my bedroom door. Ignoring Mrs. Gilbert's shrieks and curses from the hallway, I focused entirely on compiling the evidence into a PDF.
Knowing the internet's short attention span, I also recorded an explanatory video, narrating the timeline of their affair.
Once the upload was queued, I packed my bags and left that suffocating cage forever.
Thomas didn't come home for three days. He stared at their WeChat conversation, his brow furrowed. The chat window was dead silent.
In the past, Elise would have sent him messages about breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Now, not even a punctuation mark.