My Godfather Husband Gave Our Marriage a Zero, but Refused to Let Me Divorce Him Chapter 06

My Godfather Husband Gave Our Marriage a Zero, but Refused to Let Me Divorce Him Chapter 06

The moment the post went live, I grabbed my suitcase and boarded a flight for Vermont, two

ousand miles away.

The livestream was still going.

A live comment popped up on screen: [But won’t his wife be devastated and file for a divorce after

all this?]

Rocco froze for a split second, yet Livia answered without the slightest hesitation.

“No way. She’ll write that detailed apology and post it publicly. Stick around and watch if you don’t believe me! She lied about her mother’s illness. An apology is long overdue.”

Suddenly another viewer chimed in: [Rocco’s wife just dropped a post. Everybody go check it out!]

A smug smile curled Livia’s lips. “I told you so. She’s posting that apology right on schedule.”

Rocco’s tense shoulders relaxed.

The very next instant, the comment blew up with reactions to my new update.

[This isn’t an apology at all! She uploaded her mother’s death certificate…]

[She says she had an abortion, filed divorce papers, and walked away from seven years together.]

Rocco’s eyes widened in horror, all the color draining from his face.

“That can’t be real. This is just another ploy to manipulate the situation!” Livia hissed beside him. “Don’t trust her. We signed a prenuptial agreement before your wedding, remember? I drew up the contract myself. If you divorce her now, she gets absolutely nothing!”

Rocco said nothing.

His trembling finger opened my post. Old memories surfaced one by one.

Back in that basement, I’d slide the last few pieces of meat from my plate over to him, surviving on plain bread smothered in ketchup.

While he clawed his way upward, I kept us afloat.

I’d delivered meals on that beat-up scooter and ran from block to block to evade patrol officers when I set up a street stall.

We squeezed onto a single-size bed under one thin blanket, shivering through frigid winters. That was how I’d developed this permanent chill in my bones.

When his cash flow dried up, I’d taken out loan after loan online.

I attached every old loan statement and receipt in my post. The records were plain to see our monthly living expenses back then were barely over three hundred dollars.

The final photograph showed me in my delivery uniform, dropping him off in his tailored suit to negotiate territory deals.

We were both grinning from ear to ear.

During those grueling years overseas, Livia had done nothing but send him gentle check-ins. Not once had she lent him a single dollar.

Rocco stared numbly at each picture. Behind every shot lay my quiet, fierce devotion from long ago.

Livia kept repeating that people changed, that I’d turned greedy and materialistic. But I had never changed. Rocco was the one who’d drifted away.

He tapped open my next post.

A photo of my mother’s official death certificate, dated seven days earlier.

Rocco’s throat tightened. He mumbled hoarsely. “Livia, you said she was lying to me. She wasn’t lying at all.”

It hit him that those seven days were exactly when he’d been vacationing with Livia. Dazed confusion washed over him.

“She never told me Mom was gone.”

He scrolled further and found the audio clip of Livia’s phone call. Her venomous, shrill words cut sharply through the speakers. “Think about it. Why else would I be with Rocco at this hour?”

At that line, Rocco went rigid. “Livia, how could you say something like that? You knew she was sick, and you still said that! And you deleted that call log.”

He stared at the death certificate again and again.

Then he spun toward Livia and roared. “Do you realize that right after that phone call, Odette’s mother died despite emergency treatment? Her death is on you!”

Livia’s face blanched.

She had disabled the livestream comments long before, but my posts had flipped public opinion

completely.

The backlash only grew fiercer by the minute.