Chapter 214

Annie's POV

I stood at the entrance of Howard's mansion, eyes fixed on Philip who had just arrived. My former husband looked more exhausted than usual. The moment Betty spotted him, her eyes lit up as if she'd seen her savior.

"Son, you're finally here!" Her voice brimmed with expectation as she hurried toward Philip, practically dragging him to her side.

I could feel Howard standing behind me, not too far away. His presence gave me tremendous strength, like a silent pillar of support.

"Hurry,tell Howard how terrible Annie was when you were together!"Betty urged, her voice eager and commanding. She lifted her chin high,that familiar air of superiority returning to her demeanor. "She constantly pushed you to work, making you earn money to support her and her mother!"

Philip's face turned pale. He looked at Betty with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"You called me here for this?" His voice was low and controlled.

Seeing his reaction, I found myself feeling oddly amused by the situation.

"Perfect timing," I said calmly to Philip, "since all three of us are here,everyone's present. Let's pull up the complete transaction records in front of your mother, so she can see for herself."

I held my head high, looking directly into Betty's eyes-those eyes that once intimidated me no longer held the same power. Though I knew I had nothing to feel guilty about, the arguments and accusations from this

mother and son duo were still vivid in my memory.

"Please do!" Betty responded challengingly, her eyes gleaming with confidence, "I would very much like to show Howard how irresponsibly you squandered and wasted money!"

Howard remained silent throughout this confrontation, but his presence behind me felt solid as a mountain. I unconsciously leaned back slightly,almost feeling the warmth of his body.

Betty waited a few seconds, and seeing Philip still standing motionless, she frowned: "What are you waiting for? Hurry up and show us the transaction records!"

I noticed a layer of fine sweat on Philip's forehead, and his breathing had become rapid. It seemed this conversation was making him more uncomfortable than I had anticipated.

"Be quiet!" Philip suddenly exploded, his voice sharper than I had imagined.

Betty stared at him in disbelief, as if looking at a stranger: "You're actually yelling at me? Telling me to be quiet? All for this woman?"

The muscles in, Philip's face tensed as he looked both angry and pained:"Aren't you very clear about how much money I gave her? After all, it was you who suggested I give her three thousand dollars a month. Do you really think that was a lot?"

I hadn't expected Philip to reveal this fact. It meant that my meager monthly allowance of three thousand dollars had actually been Betty's suggestion. Hearing this news, I felt a strange calmness, as if a puzzle had finally been solved.

Betty's voice trembled slightly: "But after you became wealthy, didn't you secretly increase her allowance behind my back?"

Philip's expression became complex, as if scrutinizing his mother's words:"Who told you that?"

"Sarah, of course. Isn't that right?" Betty answered without hesitation.

"Sarah." When this name came from Betty's lips, I couldn't help but give a cold laugh. That name which once caused me so much heartache now only evoked a sense of absurdity. I could almost see the final piece of the puzzle falling into place-how Sarah had carefully woven lies, how she had sown poisonous seeds in the cracks of my marriage, how she had successfully made Philip and Betty misunderstand me.

"Of course it was Sarah," I said softly, with a hint of sarcasm in my voice,"who else could it be?"

Philip seemed to have some kind of realization in that moment, his gaze becoming sharp and pained: "She lied to you. I never increased Annie's living allowance."

Betty was stunned, her confidence beginning to waver: "But you must have given money to her mother,right?"

"No, I didn't," Philip's voice was low, carrying a trace of regret I rarely heard, "When we first got married, didn't you repeatedly warn me not to indulge their bad habits? I never forgot that."

So Philip's coldness and disrespect toward my mother stemmed from Betty's "warnings," I suddenly understood those small details that had once troubled me-why Philip always found excuses to leave whenever my mom visited; why he never agreed to my buying gifts for her; why he was

always indifferent to her health issues.

"So that's why you treated my mother that way?" I stared at Philip, my voice trembling slightly, "Because your mother said we had 'bad habits"?That single mother who raised me with such hardship?"

I actually felt a touch of pity for this grown main controlled by his mother.

Betty was momentarily speechless, her expression gradually shifting from shock to embarrassment. I could see her thinking about how to counterattack, how to regain control of the situation.

I decided to take this opportunity to clear everything up once and for all:"First, let me clarify something. During my first year with your son, he didn t even give me that three thousand dollars."

Remembering that time, my throat tightened. Those nutritious breakfasts prepared early in the morning that no one appreciated; those carefully selected gifts that were scorned; those interrupted conversations and ignored suggestions. How hard I had tried to be a good wife, squeezing out every minute to care for the family, only to be met with coldness and mockery.

"You know what, Philip?" I looked at him, my voice calm yet filled with undisguised disappointment, "I used to think the problem was with me,that I could never do well enough, that I was never good enough."

"In the second to fourth years, he gave me three thousand dollars monthly,and in the last two years, he didn't give me a penny." I stated these facts calmly, surprised at the steadiness in my voice. "In other words,during our six years together, he gave me a total of only $108,000, averaging just $1,500 per month."

Betty's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly regained her composure: "What,you think $1,500 is too little? I've already told Howard you would never be satisfied. Any living allowance he could give you was already very generous!"

She quickly turned to Howard, trying to gain his support: "You see, Annie is completely ungrateful."

Faced with Betty's accusations, I felt a rush of blood to my cheeks. This absurdly extreme logic-portraying a husband's stinginess as generosity,describing my basic needs as greed? I couldn't help but laugh softly, not because it was funny, but because I finally saw through this distorted reality.

"Grateful?" I murmured, loud enough for everyone present to hear, "I should be immensely grateful for $1,500 a month while bearing all the responsibilities of a full-time wife and mother? Betty, do you really think that's reasonable?"

I was no longer afraid of her criticism. Those words that once kept me awake at night now sounded like nothing more than unreasonable accusations.

"Don't act like your son giving me this small amount of money every month was some great favor," I explained calmly, "The truth is, the only reason I was able to live comfortably all these years is because I found part-time work to pay for our household expenses."

Betty scoffed: "How much could you possibly earn from part-time work?"

So, those nights holding back tears; those days caring for a sick Brian all alone; those moments trying to maintain family harmony only to be met with blame. In the world of this mother and son, I was forever the outsider,

never good enough, never deserving of true respect.

I took a deep breath and raised my head: "You know what, I used to think I wasn't doing enough. Now I understand that no matter what I did,it would always be wrong in your eyes."

"At least enough to cover the costs of your son coming home every day to feast," I answered, no longer concerned with maintaining politeness toward her. "Did you think your son's fifty dollars a day was enough for three meals,three courses each, including meat and chicken?"

I felt as if I'd shed a burden I had carried for years: "But since you're making such a fuss about the money he gave me, I won't explain further.Let's just settle the accounts directly."

I pulled up detailed expense records on my phone, a habit of tracking every expenditure that I had maintained for years. Philip had once mocked this "penny-pinching" habit of mine, but now it had become my most powerful evidence.

"Here, look. These are the costs of items I purchased for your son." I handed my phone to Betty, looking into her eyes, no longer afraid of her judgment. "Calculate the total amount, and have him transfer the money to me."

As I handed over the phone, my hand was surprisingly steady.When Betty took the phone, our eyes met-the arrogance in hers was still present,yet for the first time mixed with a hint of unease and wavering.

This feeling was hard to describe-it wasn't the satisfaction of revenge, nor the joy of victory, but rather the relief and power of speaking up for myself for the first time in a long while. Like a block of wood that had been held underwater finally rising to the surface,able to breathe freely.

I felt Howard's hand gently rest on my shouder, that touch conveying silent support. And standing before me, Philip and Betty were no longer people I needed to please or fear, just a Chapter of my past. A Chapter I could finally face and move beyond.

"It feels so good," I thought to myself, my lips curving upward involuntarily, "so this is what true freedom feels like."