Chapter 4

She was lost for words after my remark.

After a while, she took out her phone and called Cory, "Dad, can you transfer me some money? I want to go out for a fancy meal!"

"She's lost her mind! Not only does she refuse to cook, but she ordered some delicious takeout and didn't share it with me, saying she won't take care of me anymore."

"Oh, really? Is that right? Great! I'll wait for you to come home, Dad!"

She hung up the phone and bragged to me, "My dad has landed and will be home soon. He said he'll bring me something delicious!"

"Look at how generous my dad is compared to you! I really don't know why he decided to marry you."

"You're old and worn out, working a dead-end job, always dressed shabbily, worse than a janitor... "

I couldn't help but smile wryly.

My job used to be very demanding, often requiring me to work overtime until seven or eight at night, and the pay was good.

After my daughter was born, I requested a position with shorter hours and lower pay just so I could come home early every day to prepare dinner for her.

For more than a decade, from the time she started kindergarten until now, I've made sacrifices for her that she sees as worthless.

I smiled faintly and shook my head, not responding to her, and just focused on eating my meal.

It had been a long time since I ate alone; the feeling was oddly refreshing.

By the time I was almost done eating, my daughter was starving, and Cory finally returned home with his luggage.

My daughter launched herself at her beloved dad, hugging him tightly.

"You're back, Dad!"

"This old woman must have lost her mind, not letting me eat! I'm starving!"

Cory looked at me with disdain, then patted our daughter's head, "Qingqing, you've suffered. Don't mind her, come, let's eat."

"I went out of my way to get your favorite savory dumplings. Eat them while they're hot."

With that, he placed a ten-dollar serving of dumplings on the table.

My daughter exclaimed, "Wow, thank you, Dad! You're the best, Dad!"

I almost laughed out loud.

"I went out of my way, " he said, but it was just something he picked up conveniently at the entrance of the neighborhood.

Cory is quite frugal, never willing to spend money on me or our daughter.

In contrast, he lavishes Erick with designer clothes, bags, and cosmetics, even buying cars worth hundreds of thousands without hesitation.

Whenever he spends a little on our daughter, he goes to great lengths to emphasize his sincerity, trying to make every dollar seem like it's worth a hundredfold.

My daughter is naive, always deeply grateful.

For instance, not long ago, on her sixteenth birthday, he gave her an $88 game skin, claiming he knew she liked the game and spent a lot of time carefully selecting it. She was so happy she nearly jumped for joy, repeatedly saying, "I love you the most, Dad."

As for the $10, 000 piano I bought her, she barely glanced at it, complaining that I only know how to force her to practice.

While she was eating her dumplings, I called Cory over to the coffee table.

He looked annoyed, "What do you want? I haven't unpacked yet, and I have work to do tonight."

I don't know when it started, but even speaking a few words with me seemed to irritate him, as if he feared I'd ask him for money to pay for our daughter's piano lessons.

I sighed, handing him the freshly printed divorce papers.

"Cory, let's get a divorce."