She Killed My Father-in-Law, and My Husband Protected Her

“Mom, I’ll head home first. Your dad’s waiting for me to cook dinner.”

She patted my hand, turned, and walked out.

I chased her to the door, card in hand, but it slammed shut, trapping me inside.

The bank card in my hand felt like fire, searing every nerve in my body.

I want a divorce!

But I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t tell my parents that all their years of unwavering love meant nothing in Daniel Carter’s eyes.

And among those worthless people was me…

That night, Daniel didn’t come home, and I didn’t return to the master bedroom.

I held my son, curled in his crib, and stayed awake until dawn.

At sunrise, I rose to prepare breakfast.

Daniel opened the door and walked in, his eyes scanning the room.

Not seeing our child, he sat down at the table.

He drummed his fingers and called out, “Shall we talk?”

My eyes flicked to the bright red stain on his collar, and I sat across from him.

He cleared his throat, pulled two documents from his bag, and shoved them toward me.

One was a divorce agreement. The other, a private settlement from yesterday.

“Since you saw everything, I won’t hide it anymore.”

“Her name is Natalie Brooks. We’ve known each other a while.”

“I wasn’t planning to divorce you, but she’s pregnant with my child, and the doctor said… her health isn’t fit for an abortion.”

Natalie Brooks?

My hand froze on the divorce papers. I stared at Daniel in shock.

I’d only heard that name at the police station two days ago.

Thinking back to yesterday, it all clicked, absurd as it was.

Daniel let the woman who killed his father carry his baby?

Seeing my silence, Daniel’s voice softened, almost pleading.

“Emily, she’s only twenty-two. Please, let her go—for the sake of our sixteen years together.”

“If you’ll sign this settlement, I’ll give you the house and the car in my name.”

“And we raised the compensation to a hundred thousand.”

It was laughable. We’d been together sixteen years, and this was the first time he humbled himself to me—over the woman who killed his father.

I picked up the divorce agreement, flipped through it, and held out my hand.

He thought I agreed. His face lit up. He quickly pulled a pen from his bag and pressed it into my palm.

I signed and pushed both agreements back.

“I’ll agree to the divorce. But the private settlement—I don’t have the authority to sign.”

I was being truthful.

But Daniel heard only defiance.

He leaned back, faced dark, chest heaving, then hurled the pen at me.

“Emily Carter, I’m being civil because of our past. Don’t think I’m begging.”

“That was your father. If you don’t have the right, who does?”

“The truth is, you just won’t let Natalie go. You’re cruel. Your whole family is cruel.”

“What did you just say?”

My fists clenched, fury boiling.

He could insult me—but why humiliate my family?

He slammed the table, stood, and leaned down until his face was inches from mine.

“I said your whole family is cruel. Your father deserved to be hit by that car!”

Slap!

I struck him across the face with everything I had.

Daniel’s head snapped to the side. After a pause, he raised his hand and seized my hair.

“Emily Carter, did I ever give you any respect?”