My Useless Scumbag Husband

"Emily, Milo died. I was a mess, so I asked Andrew to stay with me. Please don’t be mad," Claire explained, her voice soft yet firm.

Damn. I fancy how talented this girl is sometimes. I mean, look at that!

Her tone was sweet, but her eyes? Pure challenge!

She's practically flaunting that my husband's with her now.

"Wow, lucky you," I said flatly, not giving anything away. "Must be nice to have such a man."

Andrew frowned. "Emily, come on. Milo's death has been hard on Claire, and you're still throwing shade?"

And there goes the knight in shining armor. Funny.

I looked at Andrew, lost for words. I find his protectiveness amusing the most. How many personalities does he have?

Anyway, I sneered and walked past them both.

For the first time, I walked away calmly— no tears, no drama. Two seconds later, there he was, trailing me like a lost puppy.

"Is this about me not bringing Matthew home? Why are you still mad? You're being petty," he hissed.

Always my fault, eh? He screwed up, but somehow, I was the wrong one.

"Yep, all my fault," I said, not even looking at him.

"Listen..." He started, and I rolled my eyes.

Here goes the drama again.

"Milo’s death hit Claire hard, so I didn’t want her to be alone. Is Matthew mad? Don't worry, I’ll make it up to him. He's sweet, so he'll forgive me."

If he’d cared about us at all, he’d know what happened to his own son by now.

But no, Claire was his priority now.

"You'll make it up to him? Well, news flash! You’ve run out of chances," I said, walking away again.

But he grabbed my arm, sounding surprisingly desperate. "Come on! I’ll pick up Matthew every day if that's what you want. Just don’t be mad."

Andrew, begging for the first time, almost made me laugh. I could have forgiven him if Matthew’s accident hadn’t happened.

But now? No way.

"Want to be with Claire? Go be with Claire. Sign the divorce papers, and stop pestering me," I said, shaking off his hand and walking away for good.

As I left, I could feel his eyes on my back.

"Tricia, get me the best toy you can find. Something fancy, so maybe a transformer! Send it home to my son. Maybe he can help calm his mom down," I heard him ordered.

Did he think he could buy me with that?

Oh, how delusional.