My Wife Killed My Father for Her Lover

Before I snapped my SIM card in half, I called Grace one last time.

“Brett, are you out of your mind? I told you, your dad was never going to have any issues. He must be fine by now! Can’t you just stop making things difficult for Chris? If it weren’t for him having connections to get those good products, your dad would’ve died long ago!

“You just want money from me. I’ll be honest: part of the cost for the mattress was covered by Chris. The fact that I didn’t ask you for money is already a favor, so stop bothering me!”

I already knew her attitude, but it still hurt to hear.

“Grace,” I heard my voice crack, “let’s get a divorce.”

The line went silent for a long time, then suddenly, I heard a cold laugh.

“Brett, put away your tricks. Do you really think I would believe you? You’re saying your dad is dead, and now you also want a divorce? Do you think that’ll make me to go back? Give up on that idea.”

All the last bits of strength drained from me.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm.

“Grace, I’m not joking. I’ll mail the divorce papers to your office. The house was bought by my dad, and everything else will be yours.”

But Grace was yelling at me from the other end of the line.

“Brett, have you really grown a spine? I never mentioned divorce; how dare you? Do you think I want to be with you? Every day since we got married has made me feel sick!

“Don’t push your luck. Even if you kneel and beg, I won’t go soft.”

I was fed up with her and hung up, feeling a weight lift off my chest, finally able to breathe.

I touched my dad’s black-and-white photo. If only I had divorced Grace sooner, I might have saved the one person who loved me most in this world.

When my dad first got sick, I was running between the studio and the hospital.

During that whole time, Grace never showed up once.

When I called her, I heard Chris’s voice on the line. “Only thirty orders left, everyone! Get yours now and don’t miss out! Our mattress is amazing!”

Grace’s tone was anxious as she shouted, “Can you stop bothering me? It’s hard enough with your dad!”

Later, when my dad was recovering, I brought him home.

But one day, when I came back, I found him unconscious, bleeding from his mouth and nose.

That’s when I realized Grace had switched his mattress for the toxic one and coaxed him into taking even more harmful supplements.

Tears fell on my dad’s smiling face, and the rage inside me almost consumed me.

To my surprise, Grace showed up on the day of my dad’s funeral.

She rushed over, disbelief written all over her face. “How could this happen? I thought…”

I stared at her coldly, a whirlwind of brutal thoughts racing through my mind, but remembering it was my dad’s final memory, I held back.

Grace knelt by the gravestone, her eyes red. I felt nothing.

My dad’s death was caused by Grace, and I couldn’t understand why she was here acting like she cared.

I had warned her countless times not to buy products from Chris’s company, but she always thought I was just jealous of him, deceiving herself.

She even bought the toxic mattress, making my dad’s condition worse.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know! Chris said those products wouldn’t have any issues; Chris said…”

“Enough,” I interrupted, sick of hearing his name. “You saw it yourself; I wasn’t lying. My dad died because of Chris!”

She shook her head. “No way, Chris wouldn’t lie to me.”

I felt empty, sneering, “He wouldn’t lie to you? Grace, you’re so naive.”

Grace stared at me, confusion filling her eyes.

Just as she was about to say something, her phone rang.

After she answered, she turned to leave.

I grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you’re going? It’s Dad’s funeral today.”

“Sorry, Chris is sick. You know he just got back and isn’t familiar with the area. Let go; I need to be with him.”

Grace’s face was filled with urgency, and seeing her like that made me laugh bitterly.

“Grace, you really have no heart. While my dad was sick, you were off caring for someone else.

“Now he’s dead, and you’re still going to skip his funeral.

“Have you forgotten who brought you home that winter? Who hurt their leg just to buy you a new dress?”

Grace looked down, hesitating, but her phone rang again.

Chris’s voice came through the call.

“Grace, I feel awful. Am I going to die?”

Grace didn’t hesitate anymore. “I’m sorry, Brett, I have to go.”

I gave her a long, hard look, questioning calmly, “If Chris’s products are so effective, why doesn’t he use them himself?”

But Grace ignored me and left.