From Victim to Victor: My Fight Against My Abusive Ex-Husband

01. "And the winner of the No.1 Peak Series Muay Thai World Championship... Margaret Quinn!" Bang! Boom, boom, boom! Golden confetti rained down from above, showering me with shimmering pieces from head to toe. On stage, the referee held my wrist, raising my trembling arm high for all to see. Below the stage, cheers, shouts, and screams filled the air. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement, and I could feel countless eager eyes on me. "Margaret!" My coach, Dalton Jones, and my sparring partners, unable to contain their excitement, shouted and rushed through the ropes to get onto the stage. As the referee stepped aside, they hoisted me high in this dazzling arena. "Champion! Champion! Champion! Champion!" I wasn't sure when, but the cheers from the crowd started turning into a rhythmic chant of "Champion". I looked around, feeling a bit dazed. I traced the gold championship belt that the referee had wrapped around my waist. My heart, which had been racing since the fight started, finally settled. 02. "Three years! A whole three years! Finally!!" Even after the post-match interview and back at the hotel, Dalton couldn't contain his excitement. He was pacing around, laughing so hard. His face was crimson red, like he was high on something! "Maggie!" Suddenly, he rushed over to me, eyes sparkling as he grabbed my shoulders. "We finally get what we want!" I gently pulled his still-trembling hand away, looking at him calmly without saying a word. Since we started working together, I've been pretty clear about what I really wanted. "Dalton, you know what I'm going to do next." His excited expression froze. The deep red on his face faded slowly as he frowned at me, clearly disapproving. "Maggie, you're already a world champion now; there's no reason to tie yourself to that scum—" I stepped closer to him, speaking in a reassuring tone. "Hey, I'm not going to waste my whole life on that trash, okay? Once I get my revenge, I'll be back. And then we'll do what we always do—kicking some serious ass. You and me!" 03. Five years ago, I met Mason Hayes through an introduction. He was a smooth talker, and I fell for his charm in a heartbeat. In less than six months, despite my parents' objections, I married Mason. However, I never imagined my marriage wasn't the start of a happy fairy tale, but the beginning of endless pain. On the day we got the certificate, Mason showed his true colors. Just because I smiled at the male neighbor across the hall when we got home, he called me a w***e and slapped me. From that moment on, my suffering began. Whenever he didn't get his way at work or was in a bad mood, he'd beat me up at home. I tried to fight back, but there was no way I could stand up to a man like him. Palms, fists, belts, brooms, ashtrays... He would use whatever at his hand when he wanted to do that. I called the police, but all I got were empty words of reconciliation. He just kept getting worse, and the beatings got more brutal. I tried to leave him, but whenever I even thought about divorce, he'd use my parents as a threat. "Divorce? If you even think about it, I'll go kill those two old geezers! You better not try it, you slut!" I couldn't risk my parents' lives, so in my desperation, all I could do was endure. That changed a year later when Mason came home drunk. This time, he didn't just beat me, he stripped me naked and tossed me out in the street in just my underwear. It was then that I met Dalton, who pulled me out of that pit of suffering. From that moment on, I began my journey to becoming a champion. 04. With a roar, my plane touched down in Aeropolis as evening set in. My parents went to the airport to pick me up. They were both in their early fifties, but their hair was already completely silver. I felt an unexpected wave of emotion wash over me, and tears began to flow down my cheeks. "Maggie, my girl, don't cry, don't cry!" My mom said, her eyes red as she fought back her own tears while wiping mine away. All the feelings I had suppressed over the years erupted, and I threw myself into their embrace, sobbing uncontrollably in the crowded airport terminal. Back when they found out what Mason had done to me, they were ready to kill him at the expense of their lives. But I understood Mason's temper all too well. I begged and pleaded with them until they finally agreed to stay out of it. It was that day that my parents seemed to lose their youth overnight. Even though I finally divorced Mason with Dalton's help, my parents' white hair is a reminder of what they've been through, and it'll never go back. In the past three years, I dedicated myself to training. The only way I kept in touch with my parents was through video calls. Three years—over a thousand days and nights. I immersed myself in grueling training, driven by my hatred and anger toward Mason Hayes. Today began the long-yearning revenge tour. 05. On the way home, my parents surrounded me with their concern but deliberately excluded that man from topics. But with my insistence and my dad's help, my mom finally agreed to my decision. The mornings in Aeropolis are always foggy in winter. I kept track of the time and arrived at the company building where Mason worked. As I glanced at the clock, I saw it was ten minutes to nine. Knowing my former husband, a lazy guy with no ambition—I knew he'd always show up at the very last second, like a clockwork toy running out of time. Soon enough, that familiar figure came into view. Mason Hayes. Walking beside him was a girl who looked a lot like I used to be. She radiated an obvious air of sweetness and innocence. I smirked. After all these years, his taste in women hadn't changed one bit. 06. With me standing right here, there's no way Mason's going to work today. He had no choice but to bring me back to his place. As the door swung open, I was hit with a wave of memories. Every detail of this familiar place brought back the nightmares I'd tried so hard to forget. I recalled myself getting punched, ashtrays flying at my head, his hands around my throat, the burning sensation of cigarette burns on my skin... The memories came flooding back, a montage of pain and terror. In the now-empty living room, it felt like my screams from back then still echoed in the silence. Clang! A heavy sound rang out as Mason tossed the keychain onto the shoe cabinet. He turned to me with a dark expression. "Remarriage? When your friends were pushing me to divorce you, we made it clear. We stay out of each other's lives forever!" "Forever?" I scoffed, took off my coat, and hung it up before strolling into the living room, feeling calm and powerful. Mason stood frozen at the door, and even without seeing his face, I could imagine how interesting his expression was. I sank onto the sofa, my eyes drawn to the glass coffee table. A tiny, almost invisible crimson stain marred the metal edge. That was the mark left when he yanked my hair and smashed my head against the table years ago. "Now you start believing in that "forever" malarky? Like I used to be?" I stretched out my arm and leaned back on the sofa, looking at him coolly. "You b***h!" Mason's face darkened, and he stormed toward me, anger radiating off him. "You've forgotten the pain after healing and are itching for more, aren't you?" That's how absurd he was. The guy who ruined my life, the one who deserved to die. I thought he might have changed a little bit. And here he was, still the same monster he'd always been. His dark eyes locked onto mine, revealing the same brutality from three years ago. In the next moment, he raised his arm high, swinging it down toward me. "I've been holding this in, and you, filthy w***e, dare to ruin my good time! If I don't show you some—" His words were suddenly cut off. Before his hand came down, I kicked him hard, sending him sprawling across the floor. 07. Crash! Bang! He flew backward, landing directly on the glass coffee table. The table shattered into a million pieces. He lay there, grimacing, surrounded by shards of glass, and looked at me in disbelief. He couldn't find the words. I got up slowly, smiled calmly, and squatted in front of him on one knee. "How does it feel to be in my shoes?" "You, how..." Terror gradually filled his eyes as he struggled to push himself backward with his elbows. I stood up, face as cold as ice, and stepped on his arm, where the glass had cut him. As he grimaced in pain, I made my purpose clear. "Mason, honey, let's get married again. I promise I'll treat you well." "No, no... you... you psycho!" Mason gasped repeatedly. "You don't want to?" I chuckled, digging my heel into his wound. "Don't get it wrong, I'm telling you, not asking you. And if you don't listen..." I glanced at the family photo of him and his parents hanging on the wall, then looked down at him with a smile. "Think what might happen to your parents," I said, mirroring his threats from the past. "You monster!" Mason roared hoarsely, "You dare?!" "Why wouldn't I?" I released my foot from his wound. As he tried to get up, using his hands and feet, he was kicked over again. "Ah!" Mason let out a low cry, clutching his stomach in pain as he struggled to crawl forward. I followed behind him leisurely, savoring his current misery just as he had enjoyed watching me struggle, and said, "You have no choice, honey." 08. We were married again. The moment we received the marriage certificate, I pretended to smile sweetly and jumped into his arms under the notary's watchful gaze. "Honey, we can finally be together again!" Mason's body went completely stiff, and he didn't even dare to move his eyes. He knew then that I wasn't going to let him get away with it. No more girls were going to be hurt by him. The notary's congratulations echoed in the air as I pulled Mason out of the bureau, dragging him along like a reluctant dog on a leash. On the dazzling street, Mason stared blankly at the stream of traffic in the distance. "Big news to celebrate! Wouldn't you want your parents to know?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm. Mason turned to me, his movements stiff and forced. A flicker of anger and resentment crossed his face. "Honey?" I wrapped my arms tightly around his, kindly suggesting, "I'm be free this afternoon. How about we go to your parents' house and tell them in person?" Mason's hand clenched into a fist. He glared at me, his once handsome face contorting with rage. "Margaret, this is between you and me. Don't drag them in!" "Drag them in?" I raised my hand and gently patted his face twice. "Honey, they are already in, years ago." Our roles had completely flipped on the strength of... my physical strength. Watching his pupils shrink in fear, I whispered, "Don't let me embarrass you here." 09. Knock, knock. In the old apartment building, I stood in front of a brand-new security door, Mason's arm linked with mine. Before long, I heard footsteps from inside, followed by a series of responses. "Stop knocking, it's not unbreakable!" It was Mason's mom, Andrea Hayes. The woman who, when she learned that her son abused me, proudly boasted to her relatives and neighbors about how manful and macho her son was. Many times, the three of them would gang up on me. Mason was just a brute who only knew how to use. But Andrea was a master manipulator. She made me sleep in their bedroom every night and wait on them hand and foot. I had to help them get ready for bed and even wake up in the middle of the night to help them use the bathroom. I still remember how narrow and hard that army cot was. Not to mention the laundry, cooking, and cleaning. She forced me to scrub the floors on my hands and knees, just to make my life miserable. If I ever cooked a meal that didn't meet her standards, I would face her sharp tongue and Mason's beating under her instigation. And I had to hand-wash their clothes, innerwear and outerwear, sweaters and shirts, year-round, which left terrible, painful chilblains all over my hands. Whenever I showed even the slightest hesitation, she would tell on me to Mason. Whether he was home or not, she always found reasons to slap me hard across the face, justifying it by saying, "Hardship makes your marriage stronger." Slam! The security door in front of me swung open from the inside. Andrea's eyes lit up when she saw her precious son, but the moment she saw me, her face twisted with hatred and disdain. "What is this rube with you?" Smack! As soon as she finished speaking, I gave her a slap right in the face without a moment's hesitation.