Chapter 2 My Worthless Sacrifices

• On the night of a full moon, I turned off the living room lights and let the moonlight wash over me. Like countless nights before, I found myself alone, grappling with a storm of negative emotions. Again, I was questioning whether I should keep holding onto this marriage.
• But unlike all the other times, this time felt different—this time, I gave the thought more serious consideration.
• I had been married to Leonard for nearly ten years. Over the course of this far-from-perfect marriage, I had lost my youth, my job, my hobbies, my dignity, and, eventually, myself.
• And then there was something else—Leonard's quiet murmurs from the bedroom, his voice low as he spoke on the phone. It was a painful reminder of the love we had lost—and of the love he had found elsewhere.
• Leonard had been unfaithful.
• One sleepless night, his phone screen lit up unexpectedly, the glow too bright in the darkness. I had wanted to flip it over to block the light, but then I noticed a message pop up—just three words: I miss you.
• Three simple words, yet they cut through me like a knife.
• I had trusted him completely, never even thought to check his phone. But when I saw that message, my hands trembled with the urge to see more. When I tried to unlock the device, I realized that the passcode—one I used to know by heart—had been changed.
• It wasn't just the password that had changed. His love for me had too.
• Desperate for answers, I carefully took Leonard's hand while he slept and used his fingerprint to unlock the phone. What I found was like pouring salt on an open wound. I combed through their messages, reading every exchange with a strange sort of masochistic determination.
• The conversations had started innocently enough—about work, mutual colleagues—but they soon turned personal. Leonard expressed his affection for her with fervor, and occasionally, he mentioned me. But whenever he did, it was only to complain.
• Leonard: I don't know how she's become like this—unkempt, unreasonable, impossible to deal with. You wouldn't believe it, but she can start a fight over the simplest things, like a meal. She's nothing short of a shrew.
• Unkempt. Unreasonable. A shrew. These were the words my husband used to describe me.
• I read those messages over and over, numb to everything except the stabbing pain in my chest.
• I thought back to one particular dinner. The restaurant had served pork ribs that smelled off, despite the overwhelming spices. I was worried Jonah might get sick, so I confronted the staff about it.
• And while I was standing up for our family's well-being, Leonard was sitting in the corner, embarrassed by me.
• That night, I wanted to wake him up, demand an explanation, and demand a divorce. I had even started to open my mouth to speak, but then I thought of Jonah.
• Jonah was still in elementary school, and I couldn't bear the idea of him being caught in the middle of a split. If we divorced, I had no income, no financial footing. I knew I wouldn't win custody. And if Leonard remarried, would Jonah be treated well by a stepmother?
• These thoughts silenced me. I quietly put the phone back where it belonged, lay down, and pretended none of it had ever happened. That night, I—who had always been intolerant of deception—learned to turn a blind eye.
• But it was Jonah, not Leonard, who finally forced me to face reality. Jonah made me realize that every sacrifice I had made was for nothing.
• In this family, a mother who didn't earn money seemed to deserve every indignity, as if her sacrifices weren't even worth acknowledgment.
• It was at that moment I decided I didn't need to endure this anymore. I wouldn't suffer to keep this family intact. Not only that, I resolved that before I divorced Leonard, I would take back everything I had lost over the years—everything, and more.
• As I sat bathed in the moonlight, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID, cleared my throat, and adjusted the call volume before answering.
• Evaline Shaw's voice came through, tinged with unease. “Julie, we just picked up a business promotion, and we need the script revised right away. Any chance you have time to take it on?”
• Evaline was my best friend and the owner of a small but growing studio. A while back, she'd asked me to write scripts for her team when their previous writer moved away.
• She knew about my family situation and promised me flexibility in the role. At the time, I'd been desperate to escape the despair of Leonard's betrayal, so I agreed without hesitation.
• To my surprise, the script I'd written turned into a modest success, and I stayed on.
• These past few weeks, I'd been working late at the studio on weekends, using Leonard's presence at home as an opportunity to focus. Ironically, my earnings were already on par with his, but I had never bothered to tell him.
• Looking back, joining Evaline's team had been one of my best decisions.
• “Is it inconvenient?” Evaline asked when I didn't immediately respond. “If you're too busy—”