Goodbye to a Dirty Husband

Listening to Ethan’s angry shouts, I felt a rush of satisfaction. After holding in my resentment for so long, I had finally let it all out.

He kept ranting, trying to “explain things” to me, but I blocked him without a second thought.

My mother-in-law also started calling me incessantly, spewing words I didn’t need to hear to know they were venomous. I could practically hear her foaming at the mouth, her insults so furious that she was tripping over her own words.

After blocking her as well, I took a moment to tidy up the apartment. Finally, lying in bed, I saw a message pop up from Charlotte. It was a picture of Ethan cradling her, kissing her forehead—while she lay in my bed, wearing my pajamas.

She messaged smugly: [Everything you had is now mine. In the end, you couldn’t win.]

[A trash like you? Keep him. I’m done.] I sent my reply, turned off my phone and held my daughter close, letting myself fall into a much-needed sleep. Tomorrow, I’d need every ounce of strength for the battles ahead.

I wasn’t wrong. The next morning, the pounding on my door started early, reverberating through the apartment.

My mother-in-law’s voice was shouting curses alongside the banging from Ethan, who was practically trying to break the door down. My daughter shrank deeper under the covers, scared. After comforting her, I grabbed the baseball bat I’d hidden in the bedroom and headed for the door.

I opened it but left the iron gate locked, glaring at my mother-in-law and Ethan from behind the bars.

“Well, no wonder you want to divorce my son. You’re obviously already involved with another man!” my mother-in-law screeched, attracting curious neighbors.

Ethan’s face was still wrapped in thick bandages, but his expression made it clear he was seething.

“Emma, you are such a shameless woman! Cheating on me? I’ll break your legs!” Ethan snarled, rolling up his sleeves and shaking the gate furiously.

When I’d bought this apartment, I anticipated a day like this might come, so I’d reinforced the gate, ensuring not even a force like Ethan could get through it.

“Don’t think locking yourself. You think my son and I can’t do anything about you!” my mother-in-law spat, her eyes flashing with malice.

“Look, everyone! This young woman is my daughter-in-law. It’s New Year’s and she scalded my son just to be with her lover! She even flipped over our dinner table—just look at what we’re dealing with!” My mother-in-law started wailing theatrically at my doorstep, drawing more onlookers.

She knew exactly how to manipulate a crowd. With Ethan’s bandaged face as evidence, she’d even printed out screenshots from our home’s security cameras to pass out as fliers to the gathering crowd.

“Look at this? This woman,” she cried, pointing at me, “She burned my son with hot food just because he wouldn’t let her go out to meet her lover! And when I tried to stop her, she hit me too!” She lifted her sleeve, revealing a series of bruises on her arm.

Seeing her proof, the onlookers began murmuring loudly.

“Oh my God, how could she be so evil? Hitting her husband, attacking her mother-in-law!”

“This woman has no shame—married and still fooling around. Where’s the decency?”

“How can someone like her live in our neighborhood? Imagine if the children hear about this and think that it’s okay!”

“That’s it. I can’t stand homewreckers. Today, I’m going to help this poor lady teach her a lesson.”

Incited by my mother-in-law, some of the older men and women went back to their apartments to grab tools, ready to help Ethan pry open my iron gate.

Seeing my hesitation, Ethan lowered his voice and hissed, "Emma, if you apologize right now and go back to apologize to my mom and Charlotte, I'll forgive you. Otherwise, you'll face the consequences."

"Ha! Do you think I’m scared of you? You’re just a thief crying, stop thief,” I shot back defiantly.

My boldness only angered the crowd even more and the insults hurled at me grew harsher. When my mother-in-law saw that I wasn’t intimidated, she decided to switch tactics.

With a dramatic flair, she suddenly dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she begged for my forgiveness. “Daughter-in-law, I’m sorry. I promise to wash your clothes from now on! It’s just… winter is so cold and my hands are full of chilblains. I swear I only used the washing machine once; everything else I washed by hand.”

She held up her hands for effect and to my surprise, I saw that they were indeed covered in red, swollen chilblains, though I knew her hands were normally pampered better than mine.

She continued, “I know you don’t like me. I’m on my knees, apologizing to you!” She even started slapping her own face, drawing sympathy from the crowd.

The elderly onlookers returned with tools, determined to break open the iron gate and one even tossed a bucket of dirty water into the apartment. Startled by the noise, my daughter ran out barefoot, clinging to me in fear. I held her tightly, trying to soothe her as we listened to the chaos escalating outside.

With a loud “crack,” the iron gate broke partially. They were forcing their way inside.