Abandoned for the Maid, I Set My Husband Free

“Of course, unlike some people who keep a cold face all day, stiff in speech and movement, with no trace of femininity, who would ever like that?”

Kristen suddenly laughed, glancing at me with a mischievous sparkle.

“George, she seems to be exactly the kind of person you’re describing.”

“The first time I saw her, she was in a suit, hair perfectly tied, not a strand out of place, I almost called her brother,” she teased.

George laughed too, his voice rich with amusement.

“Let me tell you a secret, all the company subordinates privately call her a tomboy.”

My steps froze.

My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to burst. I grabbed the nearest vase and hurled it at them.

“George, take your maid and get out of my house!”

“Ah!”

Kristen’s shriek pierced the air.

George instinctively shielded her, the vase smashing heavily against his back. Yet even then, his first instinct was to steady Kristen, afraid she might fall.

“Jennifer! Why don’t you just smash me to death!”

He spun, fury burning in his red-rimmed eyes.

“I have no family background, no influential connections, and I can’t give you children! Hit me, curse me, look down on me, do as you please! But leave innocent people out of it!”

“Kristen is the kindest, purest soul I’ve ever met! She only became a maid to support her family. She’s a college graduate; she could have taken a far more respectable path!”

“In my heart, you, a spoiled princess born with a silver spoon, aren’t even worth a single strand of her hair!”

Each syllable cut deep.

He had no family, no backing, and was infertile.

Back then, I had resisted my parents’ pressure and married him without hesitation.

The cost had been brutal: within two years, I had to double the family’s profits.

I gave up full nights of sleep, steeled myself as if I were a man, and poured every ounce of effort into the task.

And I succeeded.

But now he accused me of looking down on him and called me worthless.

And with another woman by his side, he laughed at me for being a tomboy.

Like a madwoman, I stormed into the study and slashed that pillow that resembled Kristen.

I grabbed everything within reach, photo frames, plants, a desk lamp, and hurled them at the two of them.

He shielded Kristen tightly, effortlessly dodging each flying object.

“Jennifer! All these years, I’ve had enough of living under the Hathaway roof! I have the ability, I’m the youngest hospital director in the country!”

“You really think I have to scrape by in your brother’s hospital? Let me tell you, there are countless top hospitals trying to recruit me!”

“If you keep losing control like this… fine. We’ll divorce! And the only one who will regret it will be you!”

I gripped the stair railing, trying to steady myself. “Do whatever you want!”

Kristen trembled in his arms.

“George, married couples fight… It’s normal. She has a strange temper, but if you just endure it, it will pass.”

“Divorced women really have it hard. People look down on them… just like me.”

George sneered coldly, barely sparing me a glance.

“I don’t care about her. She brought it on herself. Not every woman deserves to be cherished.”

A wave of exhaustion swept over me. I released the railing and quietly went upstairs.

George stared after me, his gaze sharp, seemingly unprepared for my calm departure. A flicker of guilt passed through him, and he opened his mouth to call me back.

Just then, Kristen’s phone rang.

“What? Dwayne has a fever?”

“Alright, I’ll head to the hospital immediately.”

She hung up, eyes wide and reddened with worry.

“George, Dwayne has a high fever, forty degrees! What should we do?”

George’s face drained of color in an instant.

“Dwayne? But… wasn’t he perfectly fine at the amusement park just yesterday?”