I Put My Ex-husband and His Beloved Woman in Jail

Actually, it started a month ago when Landen began acting strangely. He started to shower me with great care frequently, which was unusual. He sometimes bought me my favorite cheesecake after waiting in line for more than two hours. Sometimes he brought me a limited-edition handbag, which was long sold out. Even during our petty squabbles—where he would typically argue for hours without conceding, he had now quickly apologized to me. He had gently embraced me and brushed his chin against my hair. "I'm sorry, honey. Don't be mad." I was once surprised and even secretly delighted. I had thought that our three years of marriage had finally smoothed out his rough edges and taught him to value what we had and to be more considerate. I had believed that my love had finally been reciprocated. But the truth dawned on me yesterday, when Jaynie appeared. Those sudden gestures of kindness and gifts were nothing more than the last acts of kindness before the end of our relationship. He intended to make himself less guilty when he put forward his request for a divorce later. Before I could recover from the shock and betrayal, Jaynie had already taken the next action. Early the next morning, a lengthy plea for help exploded across major social media platforms. The title read, "Please Save My Critically Ill Boy; Give Him a Chance at Life." In her writing, she painted herself as a tragic mother who had been far away from home for love, only to find herself pregnant. Then she had to raise her seriously ill son alone. Meanwhile, I was described as the cold-blooded, heartless wife of the guy she loved, who obstructed her son's father from saving her son. In her writing, she repeatedly insinuated that not only did I refuse to agree to the "temporary divorce," the only life-saving option, but I also threatened her and Landen and cut off the boy's only chance of survival. She even included several photos in her post. One showed her holding the boy in a hospital queue, and her eyes were weary. Another depicted the boy's frail arm, covered in needle marks. And yet another showed Landen kneeling before me, desperately pleading. I was engulfed in an online storm overnight. My photos, my job, and my law firm address were all exposed online. "How can such a woman be a lawyer? She's rotten to the core." "She cannot get pregnant and is jealous of the one who can." "Expose her. Let her face complete social ostracization." Abusive messages and harassing calls flooded my work line. Several of my important clients called me and hinted at pausing our business cooperation. What was worse was that my parents' information was leaked. My father, Edwin Knight, was old. As soon as he found those indecent photos, which were edited, and malicious comments online, he was infuriated. He almost couldn't breathe and was rushed to the hospital. I immediately called Landen, and my voice trembled uncontrollably. "Landen, make her stop everything and explain everything online right now. Stop spreading rumors about me." But Landen showed no guilt on the other end of the line. His voice was calm and even excited. "Lydia, don't get agitated. Listen to me. This is our best chance to raise money. The more attention this matter gets now, the more people will follow it. Once we launch the crowdfunding campaign, we'll quickly be able to cover the boy's surgery expenses." I was shaking with anger. "Don't get agitated? You're using my reputation to fund your crowdfunding. Now you're telling me not to get agitated?" He continued saying sanctimoniously over the phone, "I know you're feeling a bit aggrieved right now. But as soon as the boy is saved, everyone will understand and thank you. We are taking one for the team, and it's a great love." "Landen, you have no heart. You're so shameless!"