Divorce After Affair

I had been married to Amiri Campbell for six years. He always insisted on doing all the household chores himself and managed every complex situation related to our daughter's paralysis. Those around us often commented that he treated me like royalty. On the day I finally saved enough for Kaylee's surgery, I held her in the hospital and cried tears of joy. But then, he quietly went home, took the money, and handed it over to his first love to buy a house:

"Elodie's husband was my best friend; he just passed away. We should help them out. There's still time before Kaylee's surgery."

While Amiri joyfully attended Elodie and her daughter's housewarming party, Kaylee was in the hospital, bravely holding on. She cried for her father until her strength gave out, and she ultimately passed away.

Returning to this moment, I calmly told the man who had taken our savings, "Of course, helping them is no problem."

Amiri was delighted and praised me for being sensible. I turned and led Kaylee into the Bentley my family sent to pick us up: "Remember to sign the divorce agreement before you leave."

After pushing Kaylee's wheelchair home from the hospital post-treatment, I stepped through the door to find the place completely cleared out, except for some worthless household items scattered across the floor. Her dance portraits from healthier days were trampled with muddy footprints.

Elodie Morgan, directing movers in our bedroom, saw me enter and spat pistachio shells on the floor: "Oh, Frances is back! Amiri was worried about my new house looking too empty and said I could take whatever I wanted from here. Sorry for not giving you a heads-up."

She leaned against the doorframe, her face smug and mocking, each word laced with bitterness: "Luckily, my new place is right across from yours; otherwise, I'd really be too lazy to move this stuff."

I looked at the wide-open door of the house opposite, feeling my whole body tremble with anger: "Was that mattress something Amiri let you take?"

Elodie raised an eyebrow triumphantly, nodding: "Indeed. Although I thought secondhand was gross, Amiri said the mattress was great for Rowan’s back. Rowan's growing, you know, can’t compromise that."

Kaylee had suffered from spina bifida since childhood, leaving her paralyzed during episodes. To ease her discomfort, I bought her a special mattress. It cost seven hundred dollars, and I didn’t want to trouble Amiri with the expense, so I took a part-time job cleaning mall bathrooms. Two months and seven hundred scrubbed bowls later, I bought that mattress.

I never imagined he’d casually give it to Elodie.

Kaylee tugged at my fingers, her eyes red with distress, looking at the trampled portraits on the floor: "Mom... do we not have a place to sleep anymore?"

Elodie scoffed and wriggled her hips as she exited: "The wheelchair's good enough for the cripple, right?"

Kneeling down, I gently patted my daughter’s head: "No matter what happens, I promise I will always take