?<strong>Chapter 814:</strong>


    Michael said seriously, “Lacey isn’t here anymore, and you can’t rely on your dad. If you ever need help, tell me. Lacey married me, so I’m your family too.”


    Fiona nodded quietly. She had heard him say this several times before, but she always assumed it was just being polite. She didn’t think much of it.


    After she returned home from staying out for a few days, she found a few strands of long, yellow hair on the pillow.


    The discovery sent a chill through her.


    She had a huge fight with her husband after that. At the height of their argument, he pped her.


    Domestic violence never came just once—it was either an isted incident or a recurring pattern.


    From that moment, Fiona felt her marriage teetering on the edge, like it was already slipping through her fingers.


    That night, she took her son’s hand, tears blurring her vision as she made her way to Michael’s house.


    Michael opened the door to find her standing there, face hidden in her hands, sobbing uncontrobly. “Michael!”


    Michael ushered her in and asked what had happened, but Fiona only shook her head, refusing to speak.


    With no other choice, Michael reached out to her husband, who said they just had a small argument.


    Michael’s voice grew firmer. “You hit her.”


    It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.


    Silence stretched across the line before Fiona’s husband said, “I must divorce her.”


    He confessed to his infidelity, his impatience with Fiona, and admitted that he couldn’t even understand what had happened to their marriage.


    Michael listened, and for the first time, he found a sliver of respect for him—because at least the man was being honest.


    “If you can’t make it work, don’t waste each other’s time. Fiona doesn’t need to cling to you. Come by tomorrow and finalize the divorce with her.”


    The next day, Fiona’s husband arrived at Michael’s ce—not for the divorce, but to try to take her home.


    He arrived with gifts in hand, bowing and smiling, all charm and politeness.


    His enthusiasm was the same as it had been when they first married. Men, Michael thought, were always skilled at pretending.


    But men also understood other men.


    Cheating was like opening Pandora’s box—once it was done, there would always be a second time. Men were drawn to excitement, to the new and unknown.


    The child had been sent to school, so Michael didn’t beat around the bush. “There’s no need for this. You’ve cheated before. Why expect Fiona to stay with you?”


    Fiona’s voice broke in, soft but firm. “Michael, I’m willing to give him another chance.”


    Michael turned to her in disbelief. “Are you sure?”


    Fiona gave him a smile full ofpassion, as if she were performing some noble deed. “Isn’t that what marriage is about? Lacey left too early; you might not understand.”


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