The rise of the forgotten son-in-law

Before I could even respond, the sound of the slap echoed through the dining hall.

My head snapped to the side, and blood began to trickle from a cut on my lip. For a brief moment, the room went silent.

Everyone sitting around the marble table was stunned.

Then, someone laughed.

It started softly, before spreading across the table like an infection.

One laugh turned into many, until the sound filled the massive dining hall, all mocking me without mercy.

"You can't even hold a teacup properly," Mrs. Williams said coldly. She tapped her lips with a silk napkin, calmly acting as if she hadn't just hit a grown man.

She scoffed and leaned back into her chair.

"Honestly, what did my daughter ever see in you? And why were you invited to this gathering?”

I lowered my head without a word. I bent down and picked up the teacup that had fallen from my hands, carefully placing it back onto the saucer.

My movements were slow and precise, to make sure I didn't offend her again.

I stood and stepped away from the table, intending to leave quietly, until someone stretched out a leg.

I didn’t see it in time; I tripped and crashed face-first onto the marble floor. The sound of porcelain shattering echoed loudly as the saucer broke beside me.

“Are you blind?” a man scoffed loudly. 

“Didn’t you see I was going to put my leg there?”

The room was filled with laughter again, this time louder than before.

I lay there, my palms pressed against the cold floor, and the broken utensils scattered around me like debris.

Blood dripped steadily from the corner of my mouth, staining the marble beneath my face.

“This guy is nothing but a nuisance,” someone said.

“How is he even allowed inside this house?”

“He thought marrying her would change his fate,” another person responded.

They displayed the mockery aloud; each word hurt me, pressing me onto the ground.

At the far end of the table, a young boy and a girl who looked almost identical avoided looking at me, and they didn’t laugh like the rest.

“I know he’s poor,” the boy muttered quietly, “but he’s still human.”

“Life’s unfair,” the girl sighed. “Everyone needs someone to blame.”

But no one heard them.

I groaned softly and pushed myself into a sitting position. 

I wiped the blood from my lips with the back of my hand and clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palm, forcing myself to remain silent.

But my rage was useless; I couldn't unleash it.

“Enough of this,” Mrs. Williams said sharply. “Someone should bring in Ada. I won’t have my dinner ruined by a pauper lying on my floor.”

The steward at the door responded with a bow. “Yes ma'am.” Then he walked out of the room.

Moments later, the sound of heels echoed through the hall.

A young woman stepped inside, dressed in a perfectly tailored gray gown. She had smooth brown hair, and her hazel eyes were cold and unfriendly.

But she wasn’t alone.

A tall, handsome man in a red suit walked beside her, with his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. She leaned into him as he kissed her cheek.

“You were adorable back there,” the man said with a grin.

“I know,” she replied lightly. “Let’s finish this quickly.”

She glanced across the room and looked at me, then away, as if I wasn’t worth another second.

Then she shrugged her shoulders and stretched out her hand. The man in the red suit placed a white envelope in her hand.

She took it and walked over to a small table at the corner of the room, then turned to me as I sat on the floor, resting against the wall with my head between my legs.

“Hey,” she said lazily, snapping her fingers. “You. Come here.”

My head snapped up.

I could recognize that voice anywhere. For a second, I smiled, turning in her direction, but my smile vanished instantly the moment my eyes landed on the man standing at her side.

“Didn’t you hear her?” the man sneered. “Get up, you poor piece of trash.”

I let out a quiet, bitter breath. I placed one hand on the floor and pushed myself upright, then brushed the dust from my suit.

Suddenly, a child sitting at the table burst into laughter.

“Why are you wiping dirt off a suit that’s cheaper than the floor?” the boy mocked.

The room was filled with laughter again, aimed at me, I had been attacked by almost everyone.

But I didn't respond. Without lifting my head high, I walked over to the woman who called me, the one who once loved me, and whom I still called my wife.

“Honey…” I said with a cracking voice, “what's going on?”

The man beside her chuckled and I turned to face him.

“I thought you said you were done with him,” he said.

But Ada didn't respond. Instead, she leaned into the man's chest. He lowered his head and kissed her without restraint, as if I wasn't standing there.

“Babe,” the man said impatiently, waving a hand. “Just give him the papers already. His smell is starting to choke me.”

Ada smiled.

She slid the envelope open, pulled out the document, and placed it flat on the table between us.

“Sign it,” she said, irritated.

I looked at the paper quickly, but the header made me confused.

‘DIVORCE AGREEMENT.’

My vision blurred. I rubbed my eyes with my palm, hoping it was a mistake, hoping the words would change when I looked again.

Being despised and rejected by her family was something I had learned to endure. I had taken insults, humiliation, and indifference for years.

But this was something I never prepared for.

“I thought…” my voice cracked. “I thought today was just a family dinner. Babe, what's this?”

“Alright, I've had it. That's enough,” the man beside Ada snapped.

In one swift motion, he pulled out a gun and pressed the cold barrel against my forehead.

“Sign the papers, you idiot.”

Everyone in the room gasped; their laughter had vanished and was replaced with fear. In their world, a gun wasn't something that was seen every day; it was too deadly.

“I told you to do this peacefully,” Ada said coolly, stepping behind the man as though seeking his protection.

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly through my mouth; I realized there were no choices left.

“Can I at least… read it?” I pleaded quietly.

But the only response I got was the gun pressed harder against my skin.