Tainted Vows

The door swung open, and a glass slammed straight into my forehead.

"Well, well!" Michael's mother, Mrs. Eleanor Grant, snarled with her teeth clenched. "You shameless witch. You called us here today just so we could watch you sleep around with other men?"

Pain blinded me for a moment as hot blood trickled down my nose.

Then, Michael’s father, Mr. Richard Grant, hurled a stack of photos at my face. "Lauren, my son has to divorce a filthy woman like you!"

Stunned, I picked up the photos, only to feel as though lightning struck me where I stood.

Image after image, naked bodies were entwined, and every woman in the pictures… was me.

My stomach turned. They were fake, crudely photoshopped images.

Still, the knife twisted deep. Just to protect Nora, Michael would stoop this low and frame me with forged photos?

Before I could even speak, Mrs. Grant's palm cracked hard across my cheek.

My mother rushed forward, only to falter, her eyes filling with tears. "Lauren… is it true?"

My father’s head hung low. He said nothing, but his shoulders trembled with fury.

"Lauren," Nora piped up sweetly from the side, her words soaked in poison. "You’ve gone too far. Sleeping with so many men… What if you infected Michael with something dirty?"

My nails dug into my palms, sharp crescents cutting flesh. I opened my mouth, ready to strike back—

However, Michael cut me off, his eyes clouded with something dark. "Lauren… I never thought you could be this filthy."

"Me? Filthy?" I stepped toward him, one deliberate stride after another, locking my gaze with his. My voice shook with fury. "Michael, the only filthy ones here are you and Nora."

Nora flinched, instinctively stepping back.

"Shut up, Lauren!" Michael barked, shoving himself protectively in front of her with a murderous glare.

Mrs. Grant clutched Nora’s hand. Her eyes were cold while venom spewed from her lips. "Don’t you dare drag this good girl down with you! She’s nothing like you, whoring around with men."

A hollow laugh tore from my throat. "Whoring around? The truth is—"

"Enough!"

The word ripped through the room. I turned, eyes blurring, to see my father’s face black with rage.

My voice cracked, trembling, "You don’t believe me either?"

In their eyes, I saw nothing but bitter disappointment.

Tears burned as they slid into my mouth, salt and grief mingling. My whole body shook, cold as if pierced by a thousand shards of ice.

"You will not entangle my son any longer," Mrs. Grant spat. "Divorce him immediately!"

With my own parents silent, her arrogance only grew. She shoved me hard to the floor. Glass shattered beneath me, shards slicing deep into my palms. Pain exploded through me.

Even through the agony, my fingers found the divorce certificate in my bag. Yes. Leaving Michael had been the only right choice I’d made.

Mrs. Grant spat, her saliva hot on my cheek. "Trash like you cheating in marriage… You won’t get a cent of his money!"

Mr. Grant boomed in a righteous voice, "Adulterous scum must leave with nothing!"

"Divorce her! The Grants won’t tolerate this filth!"

I lifted my head. A wall of faces surrounded me, towering above, condemning me like a jury. My throat clogged with tears I couldn’t release. When I bit down hard, copper flooded my mouth. My voice was hoarse as I said, "Leave with nothing? Sure! Divorce? Fine!"

I pushed myself up, trembling, pain screaming through me, but I forced a smile. My face ached, frozen in that bitter curve.

So this is what it felt like. When sorrow sank so deep, it could only spill out as laughter.

Cold fire burned in my eyes as I swept my gaze across them. I pulled the divorce certificate from my bag and flung it at Michael’s face. "You wanted proof? Here it is!"

Before anyone could react, I grabbed the remote, connected my phone to the TV, and cast the screen.

The room lit up with Nora’s own voice, gloating about her nights with Michael, including details of their bed and their trysts in the car. There was even a video of the two of them together.

I pressed play.

"This," I said, my voice cutting like glass, "is better than any divorce certificate."