Discarded Heiress, Goodbye, My Regretful Ex

On my birthday, I waited from two in the afternoon until two in the morning. Neither my husband nor my parents ever showed up. It wasn't until 2:30 AM that our SnapChat group finally lit up with notifications. First came my husband, Julian: [I was out with Chloe all day. We’ll just move your birthday to today and celebrate it together with hers.] Then came Mom and Dad, complaining right below his text: [You two always celebrate your birthdays together anyway. Why did you insist on having your own this year? What's the point of causing all this drama?] Finally, Chloe, the adoptive daughter who took my place, posted a photo to wrap it up. Julian had his arm wrapped around her waist, and my parents stood right behind them. The four of them beamed at the camera like a perfect family. A group chat of five, but a family portrait of four. I smiled bitterly. I wasn’t even disappointed anymore. It had taken me eight years to realize one simple truth: In this family, the one who wasn't loved was the real outsider. I placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. After one last look at this cold, lifeless mansion, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the front door. Love, family, biological ties. I didn't want any of it anymore. By the time I reached the airport, it was already four in the morning. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side. A sudden thunderstorm delayed all flights until that evening. I sighed softly, pulling out my phone to book a nearby hotel so I could get some rest. Then my phone rang. It was Julian. "Where the hell are you? It's early in the morning and you're not home. Get back here right now!" "Today is Chloe's birthday. She said she's craving your slow-simmered herbal chicken soup." I didn't answer his demand. "I'm not coming back. Didn't you see the papers I left on the coffee table?" Silence hung on the line for a few seconds before Julian spoke, his tone dripping with annoyance. "Oh, that? I used it as a placemat for Chloe's takeout. It got grease all over it, so I threw it in the trash." "Since you're out anyway, just print another copy and bring it back. Pick up some groceries too. Isn't today your make-up birthday? Cook a nice big meal so we can celebrate as a family." Before I could even refuse, Chloe's sweet, delicate voice drifted through the receiver. "Julian, it's my birthday today. Can you help me pick out which dress looks best?" Click. He hung up. The corners of my mouth twitched, but I couldn't bring myself to smile. Remembering the unsigned divorce papers, I realized I couldn't keep running away. I needed clean closure. Going back to settle things face-to-face with Julian and my parents wasn't a bad idea. These past eight years could finally end with a clean slate. The moment I stepped through the front door, I saw Mom ordering the maids to tear down yesterday's birthday decorations. When she noticed me, her face instantly soured. She turned around and began scolding me. "Look at you, insisting on celebrating your birthday separately. What a waste of effort!" "The entire courtyard is covered in your blue decorations. Don't you know Chloe absolutely hates blue? You made me wake up early just to watch the maids clean up your mess. Your birthdays are only one day apart—is it really that hard to share?" Sitting on the couch with a newspaper, Dad glared at me, barely cutting Mom off from her endless nagging. "Enough, Helen." "Now that you're back, get your ass into the kitchen and start cooking. Because you weren't home last night, Chloe was so hungry she had to order cheap takeout." I didn't say a word, and I certainly had no intention of acting like their unpaid maid anymore. Holding the freshly printed divorce agreement, I headed straight upstairs to Julian's room. As I passed Chloe's bedroom, I saw Julian, just as I expected. He was leaning against her vanity, gazing adoringly at the girl trying on dress after dress in her walk-in closet. He even offered attentive advice. "This one suits you much better than the last, but your neckline looks a bit bare." "Let me think... wear that diamond necklace I bought you last time." I stood there, watching them. I felt like a rat hiding in the sewer, peeking into someone else’s happiness. Julian had never treated me with that kind of devotion. Even when I eagerly asked for his opinion, he would only give me a dismissive glance. "I'm a guy, Nora. I don't care about that stuff. Just wear whatever you think looks fine." It had been like that when we were dating, when we were engaged, and even more so after we got married. Maybe I had been standing by the door for too long. Chloe, who had been chatting happily, caught sight of me and waved with a bright smile. "Nora! You're back!"I gave a slight nod, offering a bare-minimum greeting. My gaze shifted directly to Julian. "Come to the study. We need to talk." Seeing my cold expression, the smile on Julian's face vanished, instantly replaced by irritation. "Not today. It's Chloe's birthday. I don't have time to fight with you." "If you're really that bored, go down to the kitchen and cook. It's almost noon. You might not be hungry, but Chloe is." I let out a dry laugh. The sheer absurdity of it was overwhelming. "Does this house not have private chefs? Why does it have to be me?" "I'm exhausted. I'm not cooking." With that, I pulled the divorce agreement from my bag and thrust it toward Julian. "I only came back today to settle the divorce. Sign this, and we're done." Surprise flashed across Julian's face. He stared at the documents in my hands, hesitating. Then, with a sudden swipe of his arm, he smacked the papers out of my grip. They scattered across the floor. He glared at me furiously. "Nora, are you ever going to stop?!" "You walk in the door with that miserable face for who to see? So what if we didn't come home yesterday? You have a birthday every single year. At worst, we'll throw you a private party next year! Now you're threatening me with divorce? Who do you think you're scaring?" I didn't lose my temper. I just quietly bent down, picked up the scattered papers, and brushed off the dust. Looking up at Julian, my voice remained calm. "I'm not making a scene. I just think our marriage is completely pointless." "Divorce is a relief for both of us." Downstairs, my parents heard the commotion and rushed up the stairs. Just as they were about to demand an explanation, Chloe suddenly grabbed my hand, bursting into tears. "Please, stop fighting! It's all my fault!" "I'm sorry, Nora. I shouldn't have been so greedy. I shouldn't have said I wanted your chicken soup. And yesterday was my idea too—I impulsively wanted to go to the beach and forgot to message you, leaving you waiting all day. It's such a tiny thing... why are you tearing your marriage apart over it?" Hearing this, Mom and Dad's faces turned livid. Without asking a single question, Mom started berating me again. "I knew it! No wonder you ignored me when you walked in. You're still holding a grudge over yesterday! Aren't we making it up to you today? What more do you want?!" "Fine! We'll just have the kitchen staff make lunch today! You really can't handle even the slightest inconvenience, can you?!" Even Julian, who had just been glaring at me, completely forgot about the divorce the second he saw Chloe cry. He softened his voice immediately, wrapping Chloe in a comforting embrace. "Don't cry, sweetheart. It's your birthday. You can't ruin your makeup." "Nora just has a terrible temper. Don't pay any attention to her. She would never actually dare to leave me." With that, Julian guided Chloe toward the stairs. As he brushed past me, he slammed his shoulder hard into mine. Mom and Dad hurried after them, taking turns pampering the sniffling Chloe. Once again, I was cast aside. Holding the divorce papers, I stood alone in the hallway like an absolute joke. I looked down, forcing back the burning sensation in my nose. I decided I would just file for a contested divorce through a lawyer. But when I reached the front entrance of the villa, Julian blocked my path. Noticing my reddened eyes, his gaze flickered with guilt for a split second, but his tone remained domineering. "You're not leaving! Chloe won't stop crying. She honestly believes she caused our fight. Go back to the dining room and eat. Explain things to her properly at the table. It's her birthday, Nora." "I don't want her to be unhappy today." I snapped my head up, and the tears I had held back finally spilled over. Broken and devastated, I stared at him and yelled, "What about me?!" "You don't want Chloe to be unhappy on her birthday. But what about me? The one who was stood up by her own family on her birthday? Did you ever once care whether I was happy or not?!" Julian froze. He had no answer for me. I wiped my tears away messily, refusing to argue any longer. I tried to push past him, but his voice came from behind, sounding like a concession: "Fine! It was my fault! I apologize, okay?!" I didn't stop. Julian raised his voice, sounding desperate. "Nora, stop right there!" "As long as you apologize and clear things up with Chloe, I'll sign the divorce papers."I stopped in my tracks. Then I turned around and sat down at the dining table with Julian. Chloe was still sniffling, keeping her head low. I glanced at her and softened my tone. "Chloe, stop crying." "This has nothing to do with you. I don't blame you. Happy birthday." Only then did Chloe wipe away her tears. She looked up at me with watery eyes, sounding timid and sweet. "Really?" "Nora, I really miss your chicken soup. The staff's cooking just isn't the same as yours." I nodded, choosing not to push back just so I could get this over with. "Sure. I'll make it after lunch." Chloe finally broke into a smile. The moment she smiled, the suffocating tension in the room vanished. Mom, Dad, and Julian began chatting excitedly about the plans for her birthday party tonight. Chloe listened, her eyes curving into crescents, but she merely picked at her salad with her fork, barely eating a bite. Julian noticed immediately. He lifted his chin toward me from across the table. "Are you done eating yet?" "Chloe doesn't have an appetite. If you're full, go start the soup." I looked down at my plate, which I had barely touched, and replied flatly, "No." "Even unpaid laborers get to finish their meal before they're put to work." Julian choked on his words. Mom, however, couldn't sit still. Without caring whether I had eaten or not, she snatched my fork right out of my hand and dragged me toward the kitchen. "How can you even swallow your food?!" "Your sister is starving! Go put the pot on the stove first. You can eat when you're done!" Chloe pretended to protest. "Mom, don't..." Dad waved his hand dismissively. "Let your mother handle it." "Nora should have been cooking today anyway. If we keep spoiling her, she'll walk all over us!" Chloe gladly took the excuse, leaning back in her chair and continuing to laugh and joke with Dad and Julian. Standing in the kitchen amidst the steam, listening to the bursts of laughter coming from the dining room, I suddenly missed the simple fried-egg noodles my foster mother used to make. It had such a comforting, humble taste. A splash of butter, a sprinkle of scallions, and whenever I pushed the noodles aside, I would always find a golden fried egg she had secretly hidden at the bottom of the bowl for me. Warm, loving, and safe. A loud beep from the kitchen timer snapped me back to reality. I added a pinch of salt to the soup, then pulled out my phone to text Julian: [The divorce papers are on the coffee table. Sign them now.] [The moment the soup is ready, I'm walking out.] Julian glanced down at his phone. The warm smile on his face instantly darkened. He didn't reply. Instead, he turned back to Chloe, chatting and laughing even louder than before. Beep, beep, beep. The timer went off. The soup was ready. I grabbed a pair of oven mitts, preparing to carry the heavy ceramic pot out to the table. Suddenly, Chloe skipped into the kitchen, acting all helpful. "Nora, thank you for working so hard on the soup!" "Let me help with this little chore. Give it to me, I'll carry it out." My brows furrowed instinctively, and I shifted the pot away from her. In the eight years I had lived here, whenever she got close to me, disaster followed. "No need. It's boiling hot, and you aren't wearing mitts. I'll do it." Chloe leaned in, still insisting. "Oh, come on, Nora! Don't be so formal. I'm not afraid of the heat. Give it to me!" Seeing me pull back even further, Chloe dropped the act entirely. Her face twisted into a vicious glare, and she hissed under her breath: "I said, give it to me!" Crash! The heavy ceramic pot smashed onto the tiled floor. Boiling hot broth splashed violently across my bare shins. The searing pain turned my face paper-white in an instant. I couldn't even stand straight, and before a scream could escape my lips, Chloe dropped to her knees right onto the jagged ceramic shards. She let out a piercing, bloodcurdling shriek: "Nora, please! Don't burn me!"Mom and Dad rushed into the kitchen at the sound of the crash. The first thing they saw was Chloe kneeling in the broken ceramic, blood dripping from her sliced legs. Slap! Mom raised her hand and struck me hard across the face. Her manicured nails dug into my cheek, leaving a burning trail of agony. She pointed a shaking finger at me, screaming: "Nora, are you completely insane?!" "Chloe just wanted some soup! If you didn't want to make it, you could have just said so! Did you really have to hurt her like this?! She's your sister! How can your heart be so venomous?!" Dad's face was purple with rage, his voice thundering through the room: "I regret the day I ever brought you back from that backwater town!" "Why didn't you just stay there and rot?! Why did you have to come back to this family and torment Chloe?!" Julian arrived at the doorway, scanning the scene. He didn't ask if I was hurt. He didn't spare a single glance at my blistered, red, scalding-hot leg. Instead, he grabbed the divorce papers from the coffee table, scribbled his signature aggressively across the bottom, and hurled them violently into my face. "You want a divorce?!" "Fine! We're divorced! Get out of this house right now! I never want to see your face again!" I parted my lips, wanting to say so much. *Chloe dropped it on purpose.* *She tried to snatch it from my hands and tipped it over.* *My leg is burned. I'm bleeding too.* *It hurts so bad.* None of them gave me the chance to speak. Julian scooped the weeping Chloe into his arms and sprinted out the door. Mom and Dad hurried anxiously behind him, chanting, "You'll be okay, sweetie, we're going to the hospital right now." Once again, I was abandoned. I looked down at my red, blistering shin and felt the stinging swelling on my cheek. The physical pain flared, but I couldn't cry. I just felt completely numb. Leaning against the doorframe for support, I stumbled to my feet. I gathered the signed divorce agreement, shoved it into my bag, and limped out of the house. I didn't even have the energy to look back. All I felt was pure relief. Thankfully, the airport clinic helped dress and bandage my burn. I curled up in a corner of the lounge, resting my eyes while waiting for boarding. By the time Julian returned to the villa with Chloe, I was long gone. Seeing that the staff had already scrubbed the kitchen clean, he asked with a dark scowl: "Where's Nora?" "She thinks she can just cause a disaster and run away? Call her down here to apologize!" The housekeeper blinked in surprise before answering: "The mistress left hours ago, sir." "We don't know where she went. We offered to treat her burns, but she didn't answer." Hearing that, Julian's expression turned unreadable. Beside him, Chloe let out another fragile whimper, prompting Mom to snap immediately: "Julian, stop worrying about that wretched girl!" "All she does is bully Chloe. Today is Chloe's birthday! So what if she ran off? It's not like she won't crawl back home eventually!" Julian was holding a bag of burn ointment he had deliberately asked the doctor to prescribe. An uncomfortable look crossed his face. "I saw that her leg was badly burned. Regardless, she needs to treat it." Dad scoffed coldly. "She probably went to an urgent care clinic herself." "She feels guilty about what she did and doesn't dare face us. Text her later and tell her to come back and apologize to Chloe properly." Julian gave a quiet hum of agreement, but his mind remained elsewhere. Chloe tugged gently on his sleeve. "Julian, cheer up." "It's already dark outside after all that chaos. Since I'm hurt, let's just cut the cake and blow out the candles early." The warm smile returned to Julian's face. Laughter once again filled the villa as they gathered around Chloe, presenting the lavish gifts they had prepared for her. Every single year, they claimed we were "making it up" to me, or "celebrating together." Yet the only person who ever wore the birthday crown, blew out the candles, and cut the cake was Chloe. None of that mattered to me anymore. At the gate, a flight attendant noticed my bandaged leg and kindly brought a wheelchair so I wouldn't have to limp down the jet bridge. As the final boarding call echoed through the speakers, she wheeled me toward the plane. Passing through the gate, my phone buzzed twice. In the family group chat, Julian had sent two messages: [Where are you? Come home right now!] [Chloe is about to cut the cake. We bought one for you too this year.] Looking at the screen, I let out a dry, hollow laugh. I didn't even want to reply. With a few taps, I smoothly left the family SnapChat group. Julian, Mom, Dad, Chloe—I deleted and blocked them all in one clean sweep. Seconds later, Julian's call broke through. The moment I answered, his usual impatient voice blasted through the speaker. "Nora! What the hell do you mean by leaving the group and blocking all of us?!" "Chloe isn't even holding a grudge anymore. Get back here right now! It's the middle of the night, what are you doing wandering outside—" I cut him off, my voice steady as stone. "Julian, I'm never coming back." "We are divorced. You signed the papers with your own hands." The line went dead silent for a second before Julian roared into the phone: "What do you mean you're not coming back?!" "Let me tell you, Nora, stop throwing these childish tan—" Before he could finish, a flight attendant gently leaned down beside me. "Excuse me, ma'am, our flight is preparing for takeoff. Please turn off your mobile devices or switch them to airplane mode." I looked up and nodded. "Of course." Through the receiver, Julian's voice cracked with sudden, sheer panic. "Takeoff?! Nora, where are you going?!" "Answer me, Nora!" Click. I hung up without another word, and pressed the power button. Whether they loved me or hated me... I didn't want any of it anymore.