Smart Women Don't Divorce , They Become Widows
Chapter 1
The moment my mom found out my dad was sleeping with her best friend, Deborah Walker, she wanted a divorce. Mom had a zero-tolerance policy for that kind of filth.
She said：
“A man who's been dirtied? I can't stand him for one more day.”
In my past life, I backed her up.
I found her the most expensive divorce lawyer I could, supported her decision to leave the marriage with nothing, just wanting her free of that worthless man as fast as possible.
Three days after the divorce, she was diagnosed with stomach cancer.
To pay for her treatment, I sold the apartment, took out loans, worked five jobs a day.
In the end, I even knelt outside my father's company building, begging him for money.
He threw two hundred dollars at my feet in front of every employee in the lobby.
“Didn't your mother think she was too good for my money?”
“She left the marriage with nothing by choice. What's with the pity act now?”
That same night, I scrolled past his Instagram posts: a $1.08 million sports car for Deborah. A $500,000 Rolex for his illegitimate son.
And his comment beneath it all — 【As long as you two are happy, no price is too high】 — froze whatever was left of my heart.
That was when I finally understood.
He and Deborah had been together since the second month of his marriage to my mother.
His illegitimate son was only one month younger than me.
All those years he kept me out of the company, it was never about protecting me from hardship.
He'd already decided long ago: the business, the fortune, the fatherly love — all of it was for that bastard.
My mother died of her cancer anyway. I buried her in the cheapest cemetery I could afford.
And my father, at a press conference, took Deborah Walker's hand in front of the cameras.
“The person I'm most grateful to, all these years, is her.”
Something in me broke completely.
I grabbed a fruit knife and drove it through both their hearts, right there in front of everyone.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother told me she wanted a divorce.
Her eyes were red as she asked me.
“Mom wants a divorce. Will you support me?”
This time, I just gripped her hand as tight as I could.
“Mom. Smart women don't get divorced.”
“They get widowed.”
……
The color drained from her face instantly.
Her hand trembled and the teacup slipped, shattering across the floor.
“Lucy, you…… what did you just say?”
I looked her dead in the eye, repeating every word.
“I said, smart women don't get divorced. They get widowed.”
“Slap!”
The next second, my mother hit me hard across the face.
“Have you lost your mind? That's your father!”
“No, he's not!”
I lost control, snatching the teacup off the table and hurling it at the wall.
Porcelain exploded everywhere.
In my past life, I believed it too.
That even if my parents divorced, I'd still be his daughter.
Until the day my mother was diagnosed with stomach cancer and I went to him on my knees, begging him to pay for her treatment.
That's when I walked in on them — him, Deborah, and a boy I'd never seen — sitting around a table, laughing over dinner like a real family.
That's when I found out.
He and Deborah had been together since the second month of his marriage to my mother.
They even had a child.
Albert Walker. One month younger than me.
All those years.
All that talk about “avoiding conflicts of interest” and “teaching me to stand on my own” — that was his excuse to keep me out of the company.
Behind my back, he'd already brought Albert in, grooming him personally.
Gave him the general manager title. Gave him every core project.
Everyone in the company knew Albert Walker was being groomed to take over.
Only my mother and I were left in the dark, like two fools, for twenty years.
I was out of my mind. I rushed at him, demanding answers.
But my father just stared at me, cold, without a flicker of guilt.
“Lucy Lawrence, you listen to me.”
“I earned this money. I give it to whoever the hell I want.”
“Everything I own is going to Albert.”
“As for you?”
He sneered.
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