My Husband Took Half of My Order, I Chose Divorce

My husband didn’t have time to go with me to buy a designer handbag. After buying it, he sent me a screenshot of the order—but only half of it.

When I asked for a divorce, my mother-in-law and her relatives scolded me as if I were insane:

“Just because the screenshot shows only half? He probably just slipped while taking it. What’s the big deal?”

I blinked. “Yes, it’s exactly because of that half order.”

“Are you out of your mind? Daniel just didn’t capture the full screenshot, and you want a divorce over that?”

My mother-in-law and her relatives sat in a circle, practically putting me on trial.

And all because I had brought up divorce.

That half order—my best friend Rachel told me, “The order is real, but the bag is fake.”

The screenshot wasn’t complete, the dates didn’t match, and there were clear signs it had been edited.

That meant Daniel had bought the bag long ago, not for me—and the one he gave me now was fake.

I wasn’t wrong to want a divorce. He had betrayed me long before this.

And I had already guessed who that woman was.

“Stop making a scene, Sophia. We’ve been married for years, and Emma is already so grown. Is this really necessary?”

I glared at my husband, Daniel Carter, and said each word deliberately:

“You’d better come with me to the court in New York tomorrow morning to finalize the divorce decree. Otherwise, don’t blame me for embarrassing you.”

“Don’t make me expose the truth about that order.”

The room fell into chaos. My mother-in-law’s entire family was stunned, pointing at Daniel and demanding,

“What on earth happened? Why is Sophia threatening you with divorce?”

“N-Nothing happened. Sophia and I are fine,” Daniel muttered,

“It’s just because I bought her a bag and didn’t capture the full order screenshot. She thinks I gave her a fake one. But even if it was fake, it’s still my heartfelt gesture. Hardly worth a divorce, right?”

After Daniel spoke, my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and uncle all seemed relieved.

“Oh, that’s all it is?”

“You’re making too much fuss!”

“Even if it’s fake, it’s still a gift from Daniel. You don’t need to divorce him over that.”

“Women’s rights are too aggressive these days, but you don’t need to take it out on Daniel.”

“And what about your own faults?”

I smiled silently, eyes locked on Daniel.

“Court. Tomorrow. I’ll be waiting. Don’t be late.”

Seeing that I was determined, Daniel’s face turned ashen.

The next morning, as I drove toward the court, I was caught in a chain-reaction crash. While waiting on the roadside, I received a terrifying phone call:

“Hello, is this Sophia Evans? Your daughter is in my hands. If you know what’s good for you, come to the abandoned warehouse in New Jersey right now. Otherwise, prepare to collect her corpse!”

“Mommy, help me!” My daughter’s voice jolted me back to reality.

“Don’t hurt her! I’m coming right away…”

In panic, I turned the wheel the wrong way, and another car slammed into me.

When I woke again, I was staring at the blindingly white ceiling of New York General Hospital, the sharp smell of antiseptic filling my nose.

I looked at myself in shock—still alive, but my legs were wrapped in plaster and bandages, throbbing with unbearable pain. I had been in a terrible accident.

Then I remembered—Emma was still in danger. I scrambled to find my phone to call Daniel.

But instead, from the room next door, I heard my daughter’s voice.

“Daddy, just because Mommy found out the secret of your half order and wanted a divorce, you made me pretend to be kidnapped so she would be distracted and crash her car, breaking her legs. That way, she couldn’t go to the court to finalize the divorce. You did all that because you still love Mommy, didn’t you?”