My husband and My Son Betrayed Me, I Took 99M & Left

On my thirtieth birthday, I just closed my eyes and made a wish. "May our family of three be happy forever." Then my husband's special ringtone for his first love rang. All it took was one tearful sentence from the other end of the phone—"It's thundering, and the power's out in my neighborhood. I'm so scared."—to make both him and our son turn pale. My 7-year-old son was so anxious that he didn't even have time to put on his shoes. He shoved me to the floor. He didn't even look at my lower leg, which had been cut and was bleeding from the broken glass. He cried that he had to take a flashlight to "Mommy Maddie". He even kicked me away in disgust, cursing me as a vicious woman who was deliberately blocking their way out. My husband didn't even offer a perfunctory word of comfort. He simply picked up his phone and skillfully transferred $990,000 to me as "compensation". All the relatives in the room whispered among themselves, waiting to see me, the pitiful wife, finally break down and make a fool of myself in front of everyone. I looked at the beads of blood seeping from my leg and calmly pulled out a tissue to wipe the cake frosting from the hem of my dress. I accepted the money without hesitation. I even thoughtfully booked an express ride for those two. My husband let out a long sigh of relief, thinking I had finally learned to compromise. But just before getting into the elevator, my son turned around and accused me, "What else can you do besides ask for money? You're not even worthy of a single strand of Mommy Maddie's hair!" I didn't argue. I simply smiled and watched the elevator doors close, silently awakening the system in my mind. "Host, your current mission funds have reached $98.01 million. You're only two transfers away from reaching $99.99 million and leaving this world for good." The elevator doors closed right in front of me, completely shutting out the cold, heartless figures of those two. The world instantly fell silent. The living room was still filled with relatives whispering among themselves. Their probing, mocking, and gleeful looks felt like countless tiny needles piercing my skin. "Tsk, tsk. What a birthday. Look at how it turned out." "Exactly. One phone call, and his soul practically got swept away. How pathetic can a wife be?" My husband's older sister, Vanessa, crossed her arms and walked up to me, looking down at me condescendingly. "Nora, not to be harsh, but men need to be coddled. Why do you walk around with that cold look on your face all day? Look at Madeline. She knows how to act cute and play the victim. No wonder Adrian dotes on her. And Leo is your own son. How come he isn't close to you at all?" I ignored her. My eyes fell on my lower leg, where beads of blood were still seeping out. Shards of glass were still embedded in my flesh. The cake frosting smeared across the hem of my dress felt sticky and nauseating. I limped toward the first-aid kit in the corner of the living room. The relatives' whispers grew even louder. "Hey, look at her. What's she doing?" "Is she about to make a scene? She'd better not do anything stupid." "I think she's just pretending to be pitiful so Adrian will feel sorry for her. But he didn't even bother to look at her." I opened the first-aid kit and took out a pair of tweezers, positioning them over the largest shard of glass lodged in my wound. Then I found the rubbing alcohol. I unscrewed the cap and, without even blinking, poured the clear liquid directly onto the wound. "Ahh—" A chorus of sharp gasps rose from the living room. The searing pain instantly shot through my entire body, as if countless tiny knives were slicing into my flesh. Yet I didn't even furrow my brow. Compared to the dull ache in my heart that I had endured day and night for the past 10 years, this pain was nothing. Expressionless, I used the tweezers to pull out the shards and tossed them into the trash can with a crisp clink. Then I raised my head and coldly swept my gaze over everyone in the room. "You done?" My voice was calm, yet carried a chill that left no room for argument. "If you've seen enough, please leave. I'm tired. I'm going to rest." The relatives exchanged glances, stunned into silence by my sudden firmness. Vanessa's face turned red, then pale. She pointed at me and snapped, "Nora, what kind of attitude is that? We're only trying to look out for you, and you're kicking us out?" "Look out for me?" I curled my lips into a mocking smile. "You're just waiting to watch me break down and make a fool of myself, aren't you? Sorry to disappoint you. Now, get out of my house. All of you." Perhaps my gaze was too frightening. In the end, none of them dared say another word. Grumbling and cursing, they left. The house was finally quiet. I collapsed onto the sofa and took out my phone. The screen lit up with a notification from a special-follow setting on my social media. It was from Adrian. The photo showed Madeline and Leo sitting in a cozy late-night snack shop, smiling brightly at the camera. Leo was holding a flashlight, offering it to Madeline like a prized possession. Madeline had a blissful smile as she gently stroked his head. That scene looked more like a real family of three. The caption read: The scared ones need my protection. At that moment, my heart sank. I calmly liked the post. Then I found Adrian's profile, tapped it, and blocked him. I found Madeline's account next and did the same. After I finished, I felt completely relieved. Late that night, the sound of the door lock turning came from the entryway. Adrian came home with Leo. The moment he stepped inside and saw the mess and the cake scattered across the floor, his brows furrowed. "Nora! You've been home all night. Couldn't you at least clean up the house?" The accusation and impatience in his voice were the same as always. "Madeline's power went out, and she was scared being there alone. What's wrong with me taking Leo to keep her company? Can't you be a little more understanding?" I sat on the sofa without even bothering to raise my eyes. "Mom! Why didn't you answer my calls?" Leo charged toward me like a little cannonball, still wearing the dirty shoes he had been running around outside in. He stepped directly onto the fresh bandage I had just replaced. The white gauze was instantly stained with mud and blood. "Are you pretending to be pitiful again just to get sympathy? Are you trying to make Dad yell at me?" He glared at me viciously. The disgust in his eyes was like a knife. I calmly looked at him—the child I had carried for 10 months and nearly died giving birth to. Then I looked away without a word, stood up, and walked into the bedroom. With a click, I locked the door behind me. Outside, Adrian's increasingly impatient shouting mixed with Leo's crying and screaming. I shut it all out. Humiliation, pain, despair, relief, anger, disgust... In the end, all that remained was the stillness of dead water. This home, this prison—I would be out for good very soon.