He Scored My Life A 4 And Hers A 10 Chapter 02

He Scored My Life A 4 And Hers A 10 Chapter 02

Three days passed.

No sign of Derek.

I checked myself out of the hospital and went home, holding the urn with our baby’s ashes.

The second I walked in, I saw Derek directing movers as they hauled furniture out of the nursery.

The tiny clothes I’d hand-sewn were all over the floor, stomped on until I could barely tell what they were.

My chest seized. I blocked the doorway.

“What are you doing? Who said you could touch my things?”

Derek looked at me, unbothered.

“I gave the order.”

“Sloane’s dog had puppies. She doesn’t have room at her place, so I’m lending her this space for a while.”

“It’s one room. Don’t make a scene.”

I stared at him, unable to comprehend. “You’re turning our baby’s nursery into a dog den?”

“The baby’s gone.”

“This is the only thing we have left of him!”

“Empty rooms are wasted space. It’s only valuable if it’s used.”

“But—”

Derek cut me off, his eyes cold and dismissive.

“Your judgment is compromised by emotion. You can’t tell what’s important anymore.”

“This room scores a three as a nursery. As a pet room, it’s a ten. Do I need to spell it out for you?”

I stared at him, and for the first time in six years, I didn’t recognize the man I married.

Five months ago, when we found out I was pregnant, he’d surprised me by knocking down three walls overnight to build the nursery. He’d collected over a hundred baby toys.

He wanted our child to have the best from day one.

Now he was handing it all to Sloane’s dogs over a meaningless number.

I laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“If this room were for Sloane’s child, would you give it up so easily?”

“Your scoring system has always played favorites, Derek.”

His eyes flashed with irritation.

“Don’t start with hypotheticals.”

“My decisions are never personal. And this was unanimous.”

He pulled out his phone and tossed it at me.

My gaze landed on the screen, and my blood turned to ice.

In a group chat called “Marriage Review Board,” Derek had asked what to do with the empty nursery.

Every single person gave Sloane’s dogs a ten.

I didn’t get a single score above five.

[She gets a one. Couldn’t even keep the baby alive. The room’s bad luck anyway. Let Sloane’s puppies bring some positive energy in.]

That was my mother-in-law. The same woman who’d texted me condolences after my miscarriage.

[She gets a two. Even the dog did better than her—eight puppies in one litter. She earned the bigger room.]

That was my best friend. The one who’d been crying with me on the phone last night.

[She gets a three. Always whining about trivial stuff and competing with Sloane for attention. I’ve been sick of it for years.]

That was my brother-in-law. The same man who’d sworn to confront Derek on my behalf just yesterday.

…

And finally, Derek’s verdict, [Three points. The living are worth more than the dead. The puppies need this room more than she does.]

Twenty people. Friends and family.

Every single one voted to give my baby’s nursery to Sloane’s dogs. Eight years of bending over backward for these people, and this was what I got.

The whole thing was a joke. And I was the punchline.

“So? Any objections?”

I let out a hollow laugh and shook my head.

“No.”

Derek nodded, satisfied.

Before he could speak again, I turned around and dragged my suitcase out of the bedroom.

“But I’m moving out with the baby’s things.”

His brow furrowed hard, but he didn’t move.

“They’re right. You’re getting more desperate with these stunts.”

“First divorce, now moving out. That tells me you’re not thinking straight. I’m docking two points off your next score.”

His voice dripped with certainty.

He was convinced I was just a child acting out for attention.

Convinced I couldn’t leave him.

Convinced I’d come crawling back.

But I wasn’t a child.

And I wasn’t coming back.

I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the front door.

“Whatever.”