She Sold the House, I Forced Her to Divorce

On the day of Tuttle Corporation's mid-year conference, celebrities and socialites gathered. Even reporters from television stations arrived and started broadcasting live.

Dad stood at the podium, full of vigor and pride.

Dressing in a striking red dress, Carla clung close to him, her smile outshining even the crystal chandeliers overhead.

All these years, Dad never once brought me or Mom to any of his work events. His excuse was always that he didn't want to bother us with work matters.

At the time, Mom thought Dad was a rare gem of a man.

"Your dad never brings work stress home. I must've been blessed by the heavens to marry him," she had said.

Looking back now, it was nothing short of bitterly ironic.

The banquet officially began soon after. Under everyone's gaze, Dad stepped onto the stage and said, "Next, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank a very special person."

Dad's voice echoed through every corner of the banquet hall through the microphone.

The spotlight landed on Carla. She put on a perfectly-timed demure and bashful expression, but she was gripping Dad's arm tightly, as if staking her claim.

"She's the one who stayed by my side through my hardest times, giving me support and warmth."

With every word Dad spoke, the hatred in me grew.

The seed money for his business came from Mom working day and night washing dishes at a restaurant. She was left with arthritis as a consequence, which still hadn't healed to this day.

When his first business venture failed, he owed a mountain of debt. It was Mom who went door-to-door, kneeling and begging people to give them more time. Otherwise, Dad would have been taken to court.

During those hardest days, Mom even sold her own blood.

Time and again, Mom was the one who bailed him out.

In fact, just days ago, Mom was even considering selling the only inheritance left to her by Grandma to cover Dad's losses.

And yet, here he was, giving all the credit to Carla.

Dad continued speaking, his gaze tender as it met Carla's.

Applause and cheers broke out from the audience in support.

Carla basked in the spotlight. She tugged lightly at Dad's sleeve and whispered a few words, her eyes full of suggestion and anticipation.

Dad smiled knowingly and patted her hand. Then, he turned to the audience and said in a louder voice, "Therefore, I want to give her a very special birthday gift on this important day."

He paused deliberately, building up the suspense.

Carla held her breath, her eyes locked on Dad.

"I've bought her an apartment in the city center." Dad waved his hand grandly, his tone impassioned. "A property gift agreement has already been prepared.

"No matter which property she chooses, I will give it to her unconditionally. I hope this gift is worthy of everything she's sacrificed all these years."

"Wow!" The whole room erupted in exclamations and even more enthusiastic applause.

Overwhelmed with happiness, Carla clapped a hand over her mouth. Then, she threw her arms around Dad and said tearfully, "Oh, Norman! Thank you! I love you!"

Dad proudly hugged her back, reveling in the admiring glances thrown his way from the audience.

"Furthermore…" he pressed on, reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulling out a velvet box. Then, he got down on one knee in front of Carla.

"Carla, will you marry me?"

He opened the velvet box, revealing a massive diamond ring that refracted blinding rays of light under the chandeliers.

"Say yes! Say yes!"

The cheers and chants rose one after another, pushing the atmosphere to its peak.

Carla stretched out her hand, too overwhelmed to speak clearly. "Yes, Norman! Yes!"

Just as Dad was about to slip the ring onto her finger, a calm female voice sounded from the back of the banquet hall.

"Norman."

The spotlight swung toward the sound.

The heavy doors of the banquet hall had been pushed open at some point, and Mom and I stood there side by side.

Mom's back was ramrod straight, her eyes like knives aimed directly at the frozen couple on stage. She spoke slowly, each word landing heavily in the silent air.

"That wedding ring was bought with the money for my mom's burial. So, tell me, is it really appropriate for her to wear it?"