My Wife Worked Overtime, I Asked Divorce

“I heard Amara even used her own money for the down payment on a house and now he’s asking for a divorce—what ingratitude!”

Sania said coldly, “If we had known you were this kind of man, we never would have agreed to Amara marrying you!”

Hearing this, Amara’s tears fell like pearls broken from a string.

“Zatde, even before having the child, I knew you had no money. Our family owed 140 thousand dollars on the mortgage.”

“After the child was born, you earned even less. When the child got sick, there was no money to treat him. And yet you act like you’re something special, still stopping me from working overtime to earn money?”

“Do you even know how hard it is to work twenty hours a day?”

“Sania is my best friend. Thanks to her, I had the chance to work and earn money. Otherwise, you and the child would have starved long ago!”

The others were all furious.

“Zayden, you’re completely unfit as a husband. Luckily, my husband treats me well. After I had the child, he wouldn’t let me work at all.”

I smiled coldly. “You bystanders don’t understand the full story and yet you’re all here blaming me?”

“Amara, come to the City Hall tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you.”

As I turned to leave, Sania grabbed me. “You bastard! You want a divorce over something so small? Screw you!”

She threw a punch at the back of my head.

Completely unprepared, I was hit hard, stars spinning before my eyes and I fell to the ground.

Louis, Sania’s husband, rushed forward and kicked me several times.

“No!” Amara quickly jumped off the bed, pushed them away and, worried, wiped me with a tissue.

“Honey, look — our son was only a few months old; how could you heartlessly leave the two of us?”

The baby in her arms saw me and cooed, smiling. He was very cute.

I sighed, “Let’s get a divorce.”

“You must have someone else. Honey, don’t stop me. I’ll beat this bastard to death!” Sania grabbed an ashtray and tried hard to rush over to smash it at me, but Louis held her back tightly.

Louis said, “Zayden, if our three of us working overtime made Amara have no time to take care of the baby, Sania and I won’t let Amara go to work anymore. As long as you can support the mother and child, that’s enough.”

“It’s better for you and Amara to live a good life together, right?”

The people around nodded with approval.

“This is what a real man should be like!”

“From now on, Amara should stay home to look after the baby and do the housework. Zayden, you should work harder and earn more money. Don’t get a divorce.”

“Before marriage you had no house; Amara paid the down payment and even helped you start a business. Where will you find such a good wife?”

Everyone tried to make peace.

I looked at Amara with a dark expression. “We really can’t go on. Please just let me go — let’s end it cleanly.”

Hearing this, everyone around exploded with anger, calling me worse than a loser, saying I had no responsibility and hadn’t even thought about living a proper life.

Amara lowered her head, wiping away tears, looking utterly pitiful. “Honey, I said I won’t work anymore. Please don’t divorce me, okay?”

She stepped forward, wrapped one delicate arm around me and whispered, “To make it up to you, I’ll cook for you every day and sleep with you.”

I felt a wave of disgust and pushed her away forcefully. “Can you stop pretending?”

Amara knelt down before me, holding our son, softly crying.

“Honey, I work overtime to earn money — it’s not a crime. I’ll change, just forgive me this once, please?”

“No!”

Amara cried uncontrollably. “Honey, I’ll change everything you don’t like. Please, just forgive me!”