"You shameless woman! You parade around with your lover and still have the nerve to demand a house from your ex-husband? Who do you think you are? Do you think you saved the galaxy in your past life?"
Ava's face turned ugly from the insult.
She strutted over in her high heels and slapped me hard across the face.
My head turned from the force, and my ear began to ring.
My face was hit to one side, and my ears were buzzing.
"You just let another man insult your wife, and you don't even make a sound. Jeremy, are you even a man?"
"Gave me the key to the Bentley, and you, immediately, got out of my sight!"
Ava's arrogance was overwhelming, and she truly believed I would obey her like always.
After all, this had been our dynamic for years.
She was the queen, and I was her loyal lapdog.
When she said "go east," I never went west.
When our two kids were born, I was the one who cared for them. If they cried and disturbed her sleep, she made me kneel on a washboard.
Lipstick, bags, shoes — she demanded only the most expensive, limited-edition ones. If I couldn't buy them, she'd hit me out of frustration.
Back then, I loved her so much that I endured the pain in silence.