Cheated On by My Wife, Destroyed by My Daughter

My high school daughter suddenly sent me a photo of my wife, her hand wrapped around the arm of her male assistant, as they stepped into a hotel.

She was furious. “Dad, Mom cheated!”

“Divorce her! Make her leave with nothing! From now on, it’ll be just the two of us!”

In my previous life, I had been moved by my daughter’s fierce support. I gathered evidence and took my wife to court.

But on the day of the hearing, she refused to admit anything.

Her father was furious, slamming down evidence of his own and accusing me of being the real cheater.

The quarrel grew heated until the judge turned to my daughter and asked who she wanted to live with.

She answered calmly, “Since both Mom and Dad cheated, then they should both leave with nothing.”

Then, to the shock of everyone, she revealed the bruises and scars on her body to the public, tearfully claiming both parents had abused her for years.

Faced with my daughter’s accusations, I had been stunned.

Before I could even grasp what was happening, my wife was seized by furious netizens, stuffed into a sack, and drowned in the river.

As for me, my legs were shattered before I was hurled from a cliff.

Even our families were targeted and bullied online until they became hopeless and died from depression.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day my daughter uncovered my wife’s affair.

..…

My phone suddenly vibrated, snapping me out of the terror of plummeting to my death.

It was a photo from my daughter, Bella.

In it, my wife of twenty years, Kinsley Grant, was clinging to the arm of her male assistant as they stepped out of a five-star hotel, their closeness speaking volumes.

Then came Bella’s furious voice message. “Dad! Mom cheated! She booked a room with her male assistant! A woman this morally corrupt doesn’t deserve to be my mom!”

“Divorce her, make her leave with nothing! From now on, it’ll be just the two of us!”

Those words, I had heard them before. In that instant, I understood that I had truly returned to the past.

In my previous life, when I received this very message, I had been blindsided. I had believed my family was happy, whole, untouchable. Panic consumed me, and I wanted to confront Kinsley face-to-face.

But Bella had said we couldn’t alert her, that I should quietly gather evidence and take Kinsley to divorce court.

When the time came, she promised to stand by my side, ensuring Kinsley wouldn’t get a single cent.

Moved by her fierce support, I had felt a deep surge of gratitude.

I never imagined it would become the root of my nightmare.

When I had prepared everything and walked into court ready to unleash my anger, Kinsley denied it all, every accusation, refusing to admit she had ever cheated.

Then my father-in-law, who had once treated me as his own son, turned on me with fury. He produced his own evidence and accused me of being the true cheater.

Even my own father struck me across the face in public, calling me a disgrace and an ungrateful son.

In the chaos, the judge turned to Bella, asking her who she wished to live with.

And in that moment, the daughter who had promised to protect me turned ice-cold and said, “Since both of them cheated, then they should both leave with nothing.”

She had even revealed the bruises and scars on her body in public, sobbing bitterly as she accused us of years of domestic violence.

Those old wounds were horrifying, igniting a storm of heated discussion.

The tidal wave of online abuse that followed hit me before I could even comprehend the truth.

Before I knew it, Kinsley was knocked unconscious by enraged netizens, stuffed into a sack, and drowned in the river.

As for me, my legs were shattered, and I was hurled off a cliff by self-proclaimed warriors of justice.

It wasn’t until my final breath that I understood why my daughter had done it.

Thinking of this, I clenched my fists so tightly I nearly crushed my phone.

Seeing that I hadn’t replied, Bella sent another message. [Dad, don’t worry. With me here, Mom won’t get any benefits!]

Staring at the screen, the last trace of warmth in my eyes faded to ice.

Expressionless, I typed two words in reply. [Not divorcing.]

The moment the message was sent, my phone began to ring.