Neglected Wife, Dying Vengeance

“For seven years, I was the perfect wife to a man who saw me as the hired help, and a mother to a son he treated like a stranger. On our son's fifth birthday, my husband came home with another woman's child. He smiled a smile I hadn't seen in years and introduced me. "This is Chelsey," he said. "She's the housekeeper." Soon after, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia. My own family's reaction was to demand I divorce my husband so he could marry his true love and secure their business merger. All while their new perfect family tormented my son, bullying him at school until he lost his voice. The final straw came when my husband slapped our son across the face in public for refusing to give his new stepbrother a toy. In that moment, I realized my marriage wasn't a shield for my son; it was the weapon being used against him. With only days to live, I kissed my son goodbye and walked to my husband's penthouse. My final act of revenge would be to die on his pristine white sofa. Let him be the one to clean up the mess.”