Chapter 1Divorce and the Full-Time Housewife's Revenge

When my husband cheated on me and filed for divorce, I, a full-time housewife, fought tooth and nail for custody of my son, even though it meant walking away with absolutely nothing.

I poured my heart and soul into raising him, scraping together every penny to send him to a top university. And what did he do? He immediately ran back to his father to take all the credit.

He didn't even bother to look back as my dead body rotted in my apartment.

Reborn, I woke up on the exact day of my divorce.

My son smashed a bowl on the floor and screamed at me: "If you want to divorce, then divorce! Just don't drag me down with you, you broke loser!"

I stared at him for a long time. Then, I gave a faint smile.

"Fine. I won't take you."

* * *

After graduating high school, my son was accepted into a prestigious state university.

He immediately ran off to his father's house to celebrate.

Meanwhile, I was bedridden with a severe illness, completely alone.

On my deathbed, I called him to tell him I was dying.

"What the hell does you dying have to do with me? You dragged me through three years of miserable poverty! You deserve to die!"

...

The building manager couldn't reach my son until the day of my cremation.

"Tyler! Do you still want to go to college?! If you don't come right now, I'm reporting your behavior to your university!"

Only then did my son reluctantly show up to collect my urn.

A neighbor lady was so furious she pointed a finger right at his face:

"Your mother worked a street food cart day and night for three years just to pay for your tutoring! You ungrateful little monster!"

My son argued back with utter disdain:

"My dad runs a massive business, my stepmom is an executive, and my grandma loves me! Did I ask her to be my guardian? She worked herself to death because she wanted to!"

My soul twisted in the air with pure rage. I screamed at him: "You blind, heartless bastard! If they actually loved you, why did they plot to force me to take custody of you?!"

But my son couldn't hear me. He just hugged the urn and walked away impatiently.

Even when I was alive, he never listened to a word I said.

I watched helplessly as he walked out of the apartment complex, looked left and right, and then casually dumped my urn straight into a public trash can.

He even dusted off his hands, like he had just thrown away a piece of disgusting, cursed trash.

"Haha, finally nobody to nag me! Boys, log on! Let's play some ranked!"

He eagerly pulled out his phone and launched his favorite mobile game.

In that moment, my heart died completely. Not a single tear would fall.

I didn't know what I was even hoping for anymore.

I watched him play match after match, until the sky went dark.

Until his brow furrowed, and his face turned pale.

I thought he had finally realized that he truly didn't have a mother anymore.

Instead, he patted his stomach and muttered in annoyance, "Why hasn't Grandma called me for dinner yet? I'm starving to death."

My heart went entirely cold.

Every ounce of maternal love I had evaporated, and I slowly calmed down.

Honestly, I always knew my son resented me.