He Shamed Me, I'll Destroy Him

The autumn wind stung my face as I walked out of the precinct.

My phone buzzed almost immediately.

It was a text from the bank—my checking account and all the supplementary cards had been frozen.

Then, a text from Harvey popped up.

"Winnifred, since you want to make a scene, let's settle the accounts properly. You've been living off me for years, and now you want a divorce?

"Fine. You'll leave with nothing! I've already had the locks changed. You can cool off on the street until you come crawling back to beg me."

I stared at the message, my fingers numb with cold.

To take care of that home and let him focus on his career, I'd quit my high-paying position as a design director. I'd traded it all to be a housewife.

And now, standing here with nothing, I realized just how hopelessly stupid I'd been.

The cold wind cut through my collar, and Munchkin started fussing in my arms, as if sensing my despair.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, realizing that there was nowhere for me to go in this neighborhood I'd called home for five years.

A few neighbors who'd lived in the area for decades approached me. On ordinary days, they'd smile and praise me for being such a devoted wife. But now, their gazes held nothing but contempt and disgust.

"Look, that's her. I heard she's got postpartum depression and stormed into Chief Heath's office like a lunatic."

"Poor Harvey. How did a nice guy like him end up with a wife like that? Not only does she not appreciate how hard he works, but she also wants to ruin his future."

"Tell me about it. I heard her figure's completely gone since she had the baby, and now she's paranoid on top of it. Harvey's really too kind not to have her committed to a psychiatric ward."

Their whispers were like nails on a chalkboard.

I kept my head down, pretending not to hear, and mechanically walked forward.

As I passed the bulletin board, I saw a big photo of Harvey up there. The words "Top Ten Outstanding Defenders of the Year" blazed red with bitter irony.

In the photo, he looked so upright. But who would guess that underneath that mask of righteousness hid a heart so rotten?

The sky grew darker, and streetlights flickered on.

Dragging my legs that felt as if they were weighted with lead, I finally reached the entrance of our apartment complex.

I swiped my card. The gate alarm beeped, flashing red.

Harvey really had changed everything. Even my access to the compound had been revoked.

Matt Shepard, the security guard, poked his head out of the security booth, a troubled look on his face.

"Winnifred, Deputy Commander Wyatt just specifically instructed that you're not allowed in. He said you're emotionally unstable, and he wants to prevent any incidents."

"Okay, I won't go in," I replied hoarsely. "Matt, could I borrow some hot water to make the baby a bottle?"

Matt was about to nod when Harvey's harsh voice suddenly crackled through the intercom.

"Nobody is allowed to help her! Let her stay out there and think about what she's done! This is what happens when she doesn't follow the rules!"

Startled, Matt quickly pulled his head back in and slammed the window shut with a bang.

I stood outside the locked iron gate, staring at the building that had once been home.

The lights on the 12th floor were on, with two silhouettes snuggling together against the curtains.

So, Leigh had already moved in.

They were enjoying the spoils of victory in their warm room, while I was left homeless on this cold night with Munchkin, who was barely ten days old.

A sharp pain shot through my abdomen as the postpartum bleeding surged again. It was a warm, sticky sensation that made my head spin.

Hungry and cold, Munchkin wailed loudly.

I leaned against the wall beside me and slowly slid down to the ground.