Chapter 1: Ambrose Returns At Night

It was around 9 p.m. at the Ainsley manor when a young man around the age of 23 opened the main gate and entered. He was Ambrose Li, the live-in son-in-law of the Ainsley family.

Walking into the main hall, Ambrose's expression looked tired as he took his seat on the sofa in his normal clothes. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it instantly.

He got up and locked the door before taking his seat again. "Everyone must be asleep by now," he said with a sigh.

"I hope she's asleep too; otherwise, I might receive an angry sermon," he muttered, and he got up, walking towards another room door. Reaching the door, Ambrose knocked twice but received no reply. Without thinking much, he opened the door and entered, then closed it behind him.

Gulp!" He swallowed instantly after closing the door and turning around.

On the bed was a very beautiful young lady in a blue and white skirt, lying on her stomach, busy pressing her phone with earbuds in her ears.

This lady was Ava Ainsley, Ambrose's wife. A year ago, Ambrose and Ava had a traditional wedding although it wasn't a love one.

Looking at Ava made Ambrose salivate. He had never seen a lady as beautiful as his wife Ava. The way she was lying down exposed her fair thighs, her pear-shaped figure, and her long hair cascading over her back, making her look even more alluring. At that moment, all Ambrose wished he could do was climb onto the bed and touch her, but he knew that would be his last time on earth because Ava disliked him.

He stared at her for a while, mesmerized by her beauty. Slowly, he walked towards her, wanting to tap her to let her know he was back. Just as his hand reached her leg and was about to touch her, Ava seemed to notice the shadow. She turned around instantly, shocked to see who it was.

Seeing who it was brought a heavy frown to her face.

"You pervert, it's you," she screamed angrily, pulling the earbuds from her ears. "What did you want to do? Rape me?" she asked

"No, no, no, Ava, how can I do that? You're my wife; why would—"

"Shut up! I'm not your wife. Never in your life will you mention that again, do you understand?" she snapped.

Ambrose nodded and forced a bitter smile. "Ava, what have I done to deserve this yelling from you? I've been out since daybreak, and now I'm returning. Instead of asking me how things went, you're shouting at me."

Ava stood up and pointed a finger at Ambrose, hitting his chest with it. "How dare you? Me, ask you how things went." She hit his chest with another finger again. "You went out to look for a job for yourself, you jobless person." Each time she hit him with a finger, Ambrose took a step backward.

"You're a worthless excuse for a husband, Ambrose," she spat. "You can’t even provide for yourself, let alone this family. You’re just a burden, living off my parents' generosity."

Ambrose winced, but Ava continued relentlessly. "You're nothing but a parasite. Do you think I'm proud to be seen with you? Every time I look at you, I’m reminded of my biggest mistake. You couldn’t even manage to secure a ring for us and dare call yourself my husband."

She hit his chest again. "Stop pretending like you care about this family. You’re only here because you have nowhere else to go. You're pathetic.”

Ambrose felt his eyes sting with unshed tears, but he forced himself to stand his ground, taking the verbal blows as Ava continued to vent her frustrations at him.

"I'm tired, Ambrose. Tired of living like this. Maybe my grandma and family are right; I should truly divorce you."

She glared at him, her eyes filled with contempt. "Do you think you have any control over me just because my mom supports you? No, Ambrose. Only my mom does. Everyone else hates you. My dad, my siblings, even everyone—they all see you for what you are: a useless, pathetic excuse for a man.”

Ambrose's heart sank as Ava's words cut deeper. She took a step closer, her finger jabbing his chest again. "You bring nothing but shame to this family. You think my mom's support is enough to keep you here? Think again. One word from me, and you'll be out on the street where you belong."

She paused, her expression cold and unyielding. "I deserve better than this, better than you. And soon enough, I'll make sure I get it.”

Ava walked to the wardrobe, retrieved a mat, and threw it at Ambrose. "Take it," she said curtly before climbing onto the big bed and covering herself with the duvet.

Ambrose looked at the mat. Over the past year, this had been his usual sleeping arrangement, so it wasn't any big deal to him. He spread the mat on the floor and laid down on it. As he settled in, he could feel the warmth of the floor seeping into his body, making it uncomfortable.

He got up and said, "Ava."

Ava opened her eyes, annoyed. "What is it? Won't you let me sleep?"

"The floor is so warm. Please, let me sleep on the bed. I'll stay on one side and promise not to roll over to your side."

Ava scoffed. "You must be crazy, right? Sleep on my bed? Does that sound sensible to you? It's like you're not feeling sleepy. If you like, don't sleep and stand there." She closed her eyes again, dismissing him entirely.

Ambrose hesitated but called her again, "Ava."

She woke up, visibly angrier this time. "What now, Ambrose?" she snapped, sitting up and glaring at him. "Why are you disturbing me again? Can't you just let me sleep? What's wrong with you?”

"I'm sorry, but I can't sleep on the floor today," Ambrose said quietly.

"So, what should I do?" Ava asked

"Can I go and sleep on the sofa in the hall then?" Ambrose asked, hopeful.

"It's like when Grandma warned you not to ever try that; you didn't hear, right? You better sleep on the floor or don't sleep at all, and make no mistake to call me again," she said harshly before turning her back to him and pulling the duvet tighter around herself.