The Final Straw: Choosing Divorce Over Misery

Because of my overtime work, my husband didn’t wait for me. My boss gave me a ride home, but we got into a car accident.

My boss died, and I became paralyzed from the neck down.

Netizens scolded us as adulterers.

Not only did my husband not defend me, but he also tearfully told netizens that his wife just made a careless mistake.

He recorded a video of him taking care of me without holding any grudges.

In the video, he wiped my feet and washed my hair. Besides, he held my hand and sang love songs to prevent me from suicide.

But in private, he tightened my tongue with iron wires, scratched my scalp with steel needles, and rubbed my back with steel wool.

In this way, he became the most loyal person on the internet, gaining a load of followers and earning a lot through tips and advertising.

As for me, I was tortured to death by him.

After rebirth, I swore to send him to hell!

——

“Guys, Let’s call it today. I’m going to take care of my wife. Thanks for your clicking and attention. Thank you a lot. See you tomorrow!”

The smile of my husband, Peter Smith, stopped at the moment the live stream ended.

I was so scared that I shrank my neck. I couldn’t speak because my tongue was strangled by a wire. I could only make cooing noises.

I begged him to let me go with piteous eyes and perpetual cries.

But he still came to me and pulled out an iron needle he had sharpened from the pillow. He turned my head and scratched the back of my head hard.

“Ah... Ah...”

One by one.

I was in so much pain that I was about to faint. However, the screams made him even more excited.

He changed from scratching my head to poking.

“How dare you cry! It must be you who told the reporter something, which led to so many people online blackening me recently!”

Peter’s expression was even more ferocious than mine, like an evil in hell. He blamed everything on me, even forgetting that I couldn’t move below my neck and couldn’t speak even if I had a mouth.

I was in extreme pain, and I didn’t know where the strength came from. I violently shook off Peter’s hand pressing on my head.

Peter didn’t have time to pull his hand back. That ten-millimeter-long needle was forcefully inserted into my temple.

Before I died, I saw Peter freeze for a moment. But soon, a relieved smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

After I died, perhaps God thought I hadn’t suffered enough, so he had my soul float in mid-air, witnessing Peter’s outrageous schemes.

For example, he cried his eyes out in front of my parents at first and said that he hadn’t taken care of me well.

And then he held onto my ashes box and refused to let me go until he fainted from crying.

All of this was captured by the people he arranged and posted online. He firmly established a profile of a good man, shedding tears in his livestreaming room and reaping abundant rewards.

After turning off the live stream, he curled up with his mistress in bed.

I was angry and was about to seek revenge, but suddenly I was sucked into a huge vortex.

When I woke up again, I was shocked to find that I was reborn!