Thirty Years a Housewife, Never Once a Bride

It turned out, there was no fracture at all. Brittany was just playing weak, acting pitiful the way she always did to make Bryce worry about her.

And once again, Tiffany had become the convenient scapegoat. She got accused out of nowhere of hurting her sister and slapped and condemned without a single person bothering to check what actually happened.

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

The voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

It was Flynn.

He was walking toward her down the hallway, a few CT films in his hand. When he saw his mom standing stiffly outside the hospital room, his brows drew together.

“Weren’t you supposed to be at home?” he asked. “Why did you follow us? What—are you here to give Aunt Brittany a hard time again?”

Inside the room, the two people froze.

They pulled apart almost instantly and looked toward the door. Their eyes met Tiffany’s.

Suddenly, the air went still.

After a moment, Bryce stepped out. His face was dark, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

“God damn it, Tiffany, what is wrong with you?” he demanded. “You really had to follow us all the way here? Haven’t you caused enough trouble already?”

Behind him, Brittany’s eyes were red. She sniffed softly, her voice small and shaky.

“Tiffany, I know you don’t like me. I know you blame me for making you upset earlier…” She paused, then added carefully, “But my foot really hurts. The doctor’s right here. P-Please don’t be angry anymore…”

Flynn saw his mother standing there, dazed and spiritless. Still, he deliberately ignored her. In his eyes, there was only his aunt in the ward, her eyes brimming with tears.

Irritation surged through him. He strode forward and flung the CT films at Tiffany’s chest.

“Mom, look at this!” he snapped. “The scans are done. The doctor said it’s soft-tissue damage. What more do you want, huh? Are you not satisfied unless everyone knows and the whole hospital gets a show? Do you really want to embarrass our family that badly? Mom, can’t you just be more reasonable for once?”

Reasonable. That word again.

That damn word hit her like a familiar shackle. She had lived under it for thirty years—tightened until it cut into her skin until there was nothing left of her except what they needed her to be.

This time, she didn’t want to wear it anymore.

Slowly, she raised her head.

For no clear reason, Bryce felt his heart jolt. A vague unease crept up his chest.

Tiffany reached into her bag and took out the freshly printed divorce agreement. Without hesitation, she walked up to him and held it out.

“Sign it.”

His pupils shrank.

He snatched the papers from her hands, fingers clenching so hard the pages crumpled and tore.

“What the hell are you doing now?!” he roared, furious and flustered. “Even causing a scene has its limits, Tiffany! You’re threatening me with divorce over something this trivial? How old are you? Almost fifty, and you’re still playing this game—cry, make a fuss, threaten suicide? Don’t you feel any shame?!”

Tiffany let out a faint, humorless smile.

“I’m not threatening you, Bryce,” she corrected calmly. “Look again. I’ve already signed it.”

Bryce’s breathing stalled. His eyes followed her finger to the signature at the bottom of the page.

The sight only made him angrier. His hands shook as he yelled, “God, you’re insane! Over a misunderstanding like today, you want a stupid divorce? Tiffany, I’m telling you, don’t push your luck! Without me, what do you think you are? You’re nothing but a fifty-year-old woman. Where do you think you can even go?”

“Mom!” Even Flynn panicked. He hadn’t expected her to be serious. He stepped forward, reaching for her arm—but she sidestepped him.

“Have you made enough trouble?! Dad’s right. You’ve taken care of us all these years. Are you just going to walk away from this family? From Dad? From me? What am I supposed to do? How can you be so… so unreasonable?”

“Because I was fucking reasonable!” Tiffany shot back. “That’s exactly why the two of you have spent thirty goddamn years tormenting me!”

After that, she turned and walked away, leaving one last sentence behind her.

“This marriage… I am so done with it!

Everyone stood frozen.

Brittany was the first to recover. She tugged lightly at Bryce’s sleeve.

“Bryce… you should go after her. Talk to my sister.”

But Bryce’s face only hardened.

He threw the stupid divorce agreement to the floor. That still wasn’t enough. He stepped on it hard, grinding it under his shoe until he was satisfied.

“Talk to her about what?” he spat. “That unreasonable woman’s just making a fuss. She’s been like this for decades—no growth at all! Always using divorce to threaten me at the smallest misunderstanding! Just ignore her! Give her a few days. Trust me, she’ll come crawling back on her own!”

Then he turned to Brittany, his tone softening immediately.

“Brittany, don’t let something like this upset you. Your only job right now is to rest and recover. Get your body back to full strength.”

“Our wedding is already fully prepared. We’ll be married the day after tomorrow.” He smiled gently. “You just need to be beautiful and healthy… my most beautiful bride.”

A shy look flashed across Brittany’s eyes.

“I’m looking forward to it, too,” she said sweetly. “Thank you, Bryce, for making my dream come true.”

Hearing that, Bryce reached out and rubbed her head affectionately.