A Love I Shouldn't Feel-Chapter 216: End of a Marriage ( )

In front of her eyes—

Satomi was straddling Satoshi, her bare back arched, her hands planted on his chest as she moved atop him, moaning without shame.

Riding him.

Her own father.

Kyouko stood frozen in the doorway, her breath caught.

She slowly reached into her purse.

Pulled out her phone.

And hit record.

She needed evidence.

This wasn’t just betrayal—

It was proof of something vile.

Something she had once suspected...

But prayed she was wrong about.

They still didn’t notice her.

Still tangled in their disgusting pleasure.

She held the phone steady, her face unreadable.

Then, after a moment—

She stopped recording.

Took a single breath.

And finally—

Her voice, sharp and slicing through the air:

"What are you two doing!!!"

Satomi and Satoshi both froze, eyes wide in shock, their tangled limbs scrambling apart in a clumsy panic.

Satomi yelped and pulled away, grabbing for the bedsheet to cover herself.

"M-Mom!" she gasped, her voice shaking. "This—this isn’t—"

"Kyouko!" Satoshi barked, stumbling to sit up, face pale. "This isn’t what you think—"

Kyouko stood in the doorway, unmoving.

Her eyes were cold.

Her voice calm.

"Is that so?" she said quietly. "Hmm?"

She took a slow step forward.

"So this is the reason."

Her gaze shifted from Satomi to Satoshi and back again.

"The reason you never cared for me."

"The reason you avoided touching me. The reason you treated me like air."

Satomi clutched the sheet tighter, trembling.

"Mom... I... I can explain..."

Kyouko didn’t blink.

"There’s nothing to explain anymore, Satomi."

"Just answer me one thing."

"How long have you been doing this with him?"

Silence.

Satoshi averted his eyes.

Satomi looked down.

Kyouko’s voice rose.

"HOW LONG!!!?"

Satomi flinched.

Her lips parted.

And then the words spilled out—barely audible.

"B-Before I married... Haruki..."

The room fell silent.

Except for the sound of Kyouko’s breath...

And something inside her—

finally breaking.

Kyouko stood there.

"No wonder..." she said slowly, coldly, her eyes fixed on Satomi.

"No wonder you never cared for your husband."

"How stupid of you, Satomi. Hmm?"

Satomi’s mouth trembled, but no words came.

Kyouko took another step forward.

"Your husband is in the hospital. Unconscious. Still fighting to wake up."

"And you—"

Her voice sharpened.

"You’ve been calling me, haven’t you? Just to check."

"’Are you still at the hospital, Mom?’ ’Can you keep looking after him, Mom?’"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Saying you’re both busy? With work? Hmm?"

Satoshi’s lips moved, trembling. "K-Kyouko... I... I can—"

"Shut up, Satoshi!" Kyouko snapped, turning on him like ice breaking.

He froze.

Her voice was low, sharp, final.

"You don’t have the right to talk to me anymore."

"You better prepare to divorce."

"If you don’t..."

She paused—then leaned in just slightly, her voice deadly calm.

"I will reveal your relationship to the public."

"And I’m not playing."

She turned her glare back to Satomi.

"You too."

Satomi’s face turned white.

There was no room left to speak.

Kyouko reached into her purse, pulling out a small ring of keys—

the house key,

the gate remote,

the car key—

all held loosely in her fingers.

Without a word, she walked past the two trembling figures on the bed, their shame barely covered.

She stepped toward the wardrobe—her steps silent, composed.

And opened the small drawer.

Inside was a simple box—

Wrapped carefully. Protected.

She opened it and pulled out one dress.

Only one.

The only thing she had come back for.

She turned, walked to the edge of the bed—

And with a flick of her wrist, tossed the keys and remote onto the mattress, right between them.

They flinched.

"The car’s at the hospital," Kyouko said flatly. "You can take it."

She then pulled out a thin envelope—a card, wrapped with receipts and small bills.

The allowance she had saved quietly over the years.

The one Satoshi gave her monthly, even after they became rich.

She tossed it on the bed, like something worthless.

"Here. Your stupid money. I don’t need it."

Her voice never wavered.

"I only came to take this."

She held up the dress in her hand.

"It was a gift. From my son-in-law."

Then her eyes turned cold.

"How low of you, Satoshi."

"You were my husband. And yet you never once cared."

"Never once asked if I was tired. If I was lonely. If I was happy. Or sad."

She stepped closer, her voice still soft—but sharper than any scream.

"You never bought me anything. Not a single gift. Not even flowers. Not even once."

"But you kept giving everything to your ’daughter.’"

Her eyes flicked toward Satomi.

Then she turned, slowly.

Her words came cool and final.

"I don’t want any excuses."

"I want to see the divorce papers soon."

"And I’m not playing, Satoshi."

She pulled out her phone, showing the screen still open to the saved video.

"If I don’t see the papers... I’ll release this."

"And I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly who you are."

Kyouko glanced down at her hand.

Her fingers moved slowly, deliberately—

sliding the wedding ring off her ring finger.

She looked at it for a brief moment in her palm.

Then she smiled.

It was a farewell.

The last smile she would ever give them.

She stepped forward and dropped the ring on the bed, letting it land between the crumpled sheets and the ruined silence.

Clink.

"Here. Your cheap ring."

Her voice never broke.

"I don’t need it anymore."

She turned to Satoshi.

"Make sure you sign the divorce papers."

Then her gaze shifted to Satomi—once her daughter, now something else.

"And you... Satomi."

"If you don’t love your husband anymore..."

She stared into her daughter’s pale, guilty eyes.

"Divorce him."

A pause.

"I don’t care."

Her voice was calm—cutting.

"If you no longer care about your husband, Satomi... then go divorce him."

She turned her cold eyes toward both of them now.

A quiet, devastating glare.

"And if either of you still care about your precious company,"

her gaze fixed on Satoshi,

"you’d better make sure I see the divorce papers soon."

Neither of them moved.

Neither dared speak.

Kyouko turned.

Her steps slow, composed, graceful to the end.

"I don’t want to hear a single excuse."

She opened her purse slightly, just enough to tap the phone screen.

"Or this video... will go public."

She walked out.

Unshaken.

Unforgiving.

And finally—

Free.

( End Of Chapter )

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