Everything’s Better Without You

Beatrix tried to pull this little trick on me. The harder she tried, the more I applauded her efforts.

I raised my voice and said, "Bix, it looks like you have a very flexible waist, but you should learn some restraint."

Not getting the reaction she wanted from me, Beatrix's expression instantly darkened. With a cold snort, she went to eat, and Eli followed right behind her.

The dining table was lively. The three of them ate the meal I had cooked, and Eli kept praising how delicious it was. Even Beatrix reluctantly acknowledged that it wasn't too bad.

I sat at one side to feed Hazel. Only after they finished did I sit down at the table to eat. I had always been the last to eat anyway.

After tidying up the table, their conversation gave me an idea. I was good at cooking. So, why shouldn't I record tutorials and upload them online? Social media was booming in those days. Who knew what might happen?

I knew that I had a tough battle up ahead, and I was determined to win custody of Hazel. I needed the money to support us. So, I put my plan into immediate action.

Starting with lunch the next day, I began filming cooking videos and teaching myself how to edit them.

For the first two days, the response was lukewarm. I added explanations to my videos, and by the third night, my account went viral. It became popular.

Eli and Beatrix indulged in their nightly escapades while I remained quiet and composed. Beatrix eventually gave up after not being able to provoke me anyhow.

My followers kept growing. Then, sponsors started reaching out. That month, I earned more money than I had ever dared to imagine.

One morning, Eli's father, Andrew Daugherty, finally returned home after being out messing around for over a month. A foul stench filled the entire living room when he took off his shoes.

Beatrix had just woken up from a nap. Walking into the living room, she exaggeratedly covered her nose and sneered. "What the hell is that smell? Keri, did you fall into a cesspit?"

I chuckled and looked at Andrew. He was never one for cleanliness, and his shoes hadn't been washed in over a year.

Once, when we left our front door open, even the old lady sweeping the hallway would yell about the stench.

Andrew frowned, but Beatrix kept on mocking me.

"Say something, Keri." Then, she gasped, folded her arms, and laughed. "I get it now. You pooped in your pants, didn't you?"

"Enough! It's my feet that smell, okay?" shouted Andrew. Fuming, he slammed the door and left.

Beatrix shot a look of disgust toward the entrance. Even by dinnertime, Andrew didn't come back after that episode.