"That's right. Forget him. Let’s get to the theater before we’re late."
"I heard a famous actor is performing today."
My mother-in-law quickly agreed, as though nothing had happened. The only thing that mattered was watching the play.
"Alright, alright."
Clara finally regained her composure and nodded gently.
They packed up and left. My father-in-law deliberately walked last, shouting, "Amelia, a son-in-law must know his place."
"Remember, without me, you’re nothing, and you can’t even survive in law."
Eight years of relentless hard work.
Always being ordered around.
It never earns true love.
I should have realized this long ago.
No matter how much effort you give to someone who despises you, they’ll still despise you.
Romance exists only in fantasy.
Reality gives nothing but a cruel slap in the face.
Burn the wedding photos.
Rip the family portrait.
I dragged my suitcase out of the house and sent a message to Clara’s rival, Victoria Manning.
[Find me a place to stay, and I’ll join your law firm.]
The city’s two most famous firms are Snow’s and Manning’s.
They constantly fight for clients, even alternating the Bar Association presidency.
Victoria replied immediately.
[No problem! Congrats to Attorney Hart for escaping her bootlicking life. Here’s a bonus picture!]
She sent me a sultry photo in a short skirt and black stockings as a celebration.
I smiled wryly and muttered, "This woman is chasing me again."
Of course, I joined Victoria’s firm.
Mainly to prove myself.
Everyone thinks Clara runs her firm, but no one knows how much effort I poured it behind the scenes.
I wonder if Snow’s Law Firm will stay dominant after I leave—or if I’ll rise to the top and shake the world.
At ten that evening, Clara’s parents and Victor came home, chatting and laughing. But when they saw the living room still wrecked, they froze.
"You’re rebelling!"
"Amelia, get out here!"
My father-in-law’s face darkened. Finding me gone, he snapped, "Almost thirty, and you run away like a child. Shameful!"
Clara noticed the torn family photo in the trash. Her lips tightened, fists clenched.
"Clara."
"Is Amelia mad because of me?"
Victor feigned innocence.
"It has nothing to do with you. It’s Amelia’s fault."
Clara smiled, reassuring him, then entered the bathroom and called me.
"Why run around when you haven’t cleaned the house?"
Her first words almost made me laugh.
While eating barbecue with Victoria, I replied, "That’s your home, not mine."
"You…"
Clara paused, then softened her tone. "Can you stop making a fuss? My dad’s furious. If you continue, he’ll fire you and block you from the entire industry."
"I’ll submit my resignation tomorrow morning."
I hung up and clinked glasses with Victoria.
"A toast to the moonlight."
"A toast to the past!"
