After My Son Called Me A Nanny, I Chose To Divorce

But Hannibal held onto the divorce agreement and refused to write.

He rubbed his eyes, sighed wearily and looked up at me.

“Stop it, okay, honey?”

His gaze fell on the swollen slap marks on my face and a hint of heartache crossed his features.

“I know you’ve been feeling cooped up at home and your mind’s wandering. We won’t hold it against you for what’s happened lately, okay?”

I simply continued, “Sign it now.”

My intransigence caused a sullen look on his face.

He clicked his tongue impatiently. “Stop your angry words. If you really divorce me, where can you go? Besides, if your parents knew, they’d be fussing with you again. Are you sure you can handle it?”

He half-smiled, as if mocking my presumption. I felt a chill run down my spine.

My mother, who favored sons over daughters, had been using me as a betrothal gift to buy my younger brother since I was born.

The year I graduated from college, she locked me up with a strange man, simply because he could give her 41,000 dollars.

That was enough money for my younger brother’s down payment.

I ran away from home and she and my father chased and beat me until Hannibal called the police to rescue me.

Later, after I married Hannibal, he secretly gave my parents 69,000 dollars as a warning to treat me better.

He also placed my younger brother in the security department of his company and gave him a decent job.

My profit-driven parents finally started to treat me kindly.

If they knew I’d left Hannibal, they’d break my legs and send me back to kowtow and apologize.

Or… they’d sell me to another widower to buy my younger brother a new car.

I felt a shudder run down my spine.

Hannibal, thinking he had me figured out, smiled and softened his voice. “Come on, stop it. You’re a stay-at-home mom who hasn’t worked in years. If you really leave me, how are you going to live? I was wrong not to take you to Miranda’s birthday party, but wasn’t I just worried you’d feel uncomfortable there? Next month, when I’m free, I’ll take you and our son to Disneyland, okay? You’ve been wanting to go for a while, haven’t you?”

Miranda came up from behind him and tried to persuade me.

“Yes, Regina, don’t overthink it. My birthday party is going to be livestreamed and hundreds of thousands of fans will be watching. You’ve never seen anything like this. What if you get nervous and embarrass yourself? If people gossip about you online, Hannibal will be heartbroken. He didn’t let you go because he wanted to protect you. How could you misunderstand his good intentions? You should apologize to Hannibal.”

She pulled Hughie into a hug. “Look, you scared the child. Don't be afraid, Hughie. I will have your mother apologize to you.”

My parents-in-law carefully examined Miranda’s face and body, worried that I had hurt her.

“She’s really outraged. Son, you can’t forgive her so easily. At least she has to kneel down and apologize to us and to Miranda as well! And she has to be punished to clean up Miranda’s house.”

Five people stood across from me, waited for me to bow my head and apologized as usual.

“I don’t want it,” I said calmly.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize? Why should I be punished by you? If you’re so disgusted, I’ll have your son sign it right away. That way, you can let him marry your beloved Miranda as your daughter-in-law, right?”

Miranda returned five years after Hannibal and I were married.

As soon as she landed, she burst into tears and threw herself into Hannibal’s arms.