My Husband Divorced Me For the Nanny

Back in my room, I tried hard to lift my spirits and cheer Nina up, hoping she wouldn't be affected by the earlier events.

She played and cried today and was very tired, quickly drifting off to sleep.

I loved watching her little face when she was fast asleep, chubby and cute, always filling me with endless happiness.

But today, looking at her sleeping face, I felt a weight in my heart, making it hard to breathe.

Late into the night, I could still hear Jeremy teaching James in the study, punctuated by occasional thuds and shouting.

When Jeremy and I were dating, his patience and emotional stability attracted me the most.

My parents were in business abroad and had entrusted me to relatives, seldom returning home.

I had long grown accustomed to living independently, feeling as though there was nothing I couldn't handle on my own.

In my sophomore year, during a New Year's Eve gala, I was the lead dancer, but before going on stage, someone intentionally bumped into me and twisted my ankle.

I performed through the pain, surrounded by applause and flowers, but only Jeremy noticed my injury.

On that cold, snowy night, he carried me step by step to the school gate, turning to say softly, "If you ever feel wronged, don't hold it in; I'm here for you."

But now, the grievances of me and my daughter felt trivial compared to the "children's issues" in someone else's house.

How much longer must we endure these days?