She Wasted Our Love, I Lost My Love

When our son was born, Freya's family took over his upbringing entirely.

My mother, his grandmother, was only allowed to see him once a month. At first, she was disappointed, but each visit brought her immense joy. However, as our son grew older, he began to adopt the elitist attitudes of Freya's family, looking down on his own grandmother.

I was furious when he disrespected her. In a moment of anger, I slapped him.

Instead of understanding, Freya's entire family turned against me, accusing me of being abusive. Even Freya said, "You're overreacting. It's normal for him to feel distant from someone he didn't grow up with."

Our son had been molded by the Weiss Family's values—materialistic and dismissive of those less fortunate. He even began to distance himself from me.

My mother had once been proud that I married someone as accomplished as Freya. But after our son was born, she seemed to lose her joy. Perhaps the constant sorrow contributed to her early passing.

Late one night, around 1 a.m., Freya called me. "Where are you? Why didn't you come home?"

I calmly replied, "I met with a lawyer today to draft our divorce agreement."

After a pause, she asked, "Can we not go through with the divorce?"

Her words pierced me. I thought I had moved on, but years of shared history aren't easily erased. Emotions are complex.

I didn't respond and hung up.

A few days later, Freya called again, inviting me to her mother's birthday celebration. Initially, I didn't want to go. But looking at the divorce papers, I decided to attend, seeking closure.

Then, I finally stepped into the Weiss Family estate again.

Every time I used to come to this villa, I’d feel a heavy weight in my chest—as if I didn’t belong, as if I was constantly being judged.

But not this time.

Maybe it was the divorce papers in my hand that changed everything. For the first time in years, I felt free. Nothing could tie me down now.

I arrived quite late.

The Weiss estate was already bustling with guests. Laughter and chatter filled the air as everyone celebrated my mother-in-law, Anne Weiss’s birthday. People were offering gifts and warm wishes. The younger ones were behaving well, expecting to get some sort of reward.

When I stepped inside, the room fell into a brief hush. The crowd instinctively parted, clearing a path.

I walked straight toward Anne, holding the divorce agreement in my hand.

Freya and her sister stood just behind her, flanking her like loyal sentinels. Her first love—yes, he was there too—hovered nearby, comfortably in the picture, as though they were the real family now.

Anne’s expression soured the moment she saw me.

Her voice was as sharp and dismissive as ever. “You’re late. Do you even acknowledge me as your mother-in-law anymore?”

Freya, surprisingly, stepped in to smooth things over, offering a cheerful excuse. “Mom, don’t be upset. I’m sure Jonas was just out trying to find the perfect gift for you. He wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

Anne’s face softened—slightly. She turned to me coldly and asked, “So? What did you bring?”

She had never once treated me with kindness or respect. I used to hope I could win her over, that one day she might finally accept me. But I didn’t care about that anymore.

I smiled calmly and handed her the envelope.

“This,” I said, “might just be the best gift I’ve ever given you.”

The moment Anne laid eyes on the bold letters 'DIVORCE AGREEMENT', her expression changed instantly.

No one had seen it coming.

A stunned silence fell over the room. Guests, relatives—everyone froze, their eyes bouncing between me and Freya, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Freya's face turned ghostly pale.