They Came Back To No Home Chapter 08

They Came Back To No Home Chapter 08

Peyton’s lawyer’s expression froze as well, his pen stopping mid–air.

“Purchased in full prior to marriage, registered under one party only, constitutes personal property,” the judge

said, knocking the gavel. “Plaintiff’s claim is unfounded and hereby dismissed.”

Peyton lost the case–and could barely even scrape together the court fees.

The moment my accounts were unfrozen, I saw him standing on the courthouse steps, staring down at the

balance on his phone screen–it wasn’t even enough for next month’s rent.

Rylie stood next to him.

From the start of the trial to the end, she hadn’t said a single word.

When the verdict came down, her face turned ashen.

Without so much as a glance at Peyton, she turned and walked away.

Peyton called out to her, “Rylie!”

She didn’t even turn her head, her high heels clicking sharply down the steps.

In that moment, I suddenly felt how meaningless it all was.

All that scheming–stealing my husband, coveting my home–and in the end, what did she have? Nothing.

Holding Tanya in my arms, I walked right past them with steady steps.

Rylie flipped her script faster than anyone else.

On the third day after the verdict, she sent me several messages:

[Melody, I really didn’t know he hadn’t gotten a divorce yet. He lied to me and said you had already divorced

long ago, and that you were fine with everything.]

[I’m a victim too. Can you please not sue me along with him?]

[I know I was wrong. Please, just let it go.]

I looked at those lines and let out a laugh.

She didn’t know?

She knew everything.

I replied: [The law will sort it out. If you’ve got nothing to hide, why are you worried?]

She never replied again.

Rylie’s parents were even quicker to jump ship than she was.

Her father cursed Peyton to anyone who would listen.

“That fraud Peyton ruined my daughter!”

“He strutted around like a big shot, but the man’s a broke sponge!”

“My daughter was a decent girl, and he wasted her best years!”

The way both families once warmly called each other “future in–laws” felt like something from a past life.

Rylie deleted every single photo she had with Peyton, even wiping her TikTok clean.

Those words “future daughter–in–law” were never brought up by anyone ever again.

On Peyton’s side, he was completely deserted by everyone.

After his suspension, colleagues and friends all avoided him.

The joke spread like wildfire across the entire company.

“Taking paternity leave to accompany his mistress and her parents around Europe–how did he ever get

promoted?”

In the cafeteria, no one wanted to sit at his table.

The once “model son” who’d always been so dependable was now public enemy number one.

Seeing her son with nowhere left to turn, Cathleen panicked.

She called Rylie and ripped into her, the first words out of her mouth pure venom.

“You vixen, you seduced my son and got him to lose his job and his home!”

Rylie was no pushover either–she fired right back over the phone.

“Your son clung to me shamelessly, and now you blame me? The only money he ever had came from your

daughterinlaw!”

“Your whole family’s been living off her–and you have the nerve to point fingers at me?”

The two women went at it over the phone–screaming, cursing, digging up every old grievance.

Listening from the side, I only felt a sense of irony.

In all that yelling and fingerpointing, not one of them remembered the newborn baby.

Tanya lay in my arms, clutching my finger, sleeping peacefully.

The day the ruling came down, it was raining.

The court had ruled:

First, the divorce was granted.

Second, full custody of our daughter, Tanya, was awarded to me.

Third, Peyton was to leave with nothing. The funds he spent on the European trip, the money transferred to

Rylie, and the charges wiped from the joint card were all ruled as squandering marital joint property–to be

compensated at full value, returning principal and interest to me.

Fourth, he was ordered to pay child support alongside compensation for emotional distress.

Paige handed the verdict document to me, tapping her fingers against the desk. “He signed it. No appeal.”

“How’s he going to pay?” I asked.

“Installments. His final paycheck was even withheld toward what he owes.”

I folded the judgment and slipped it into my bag.