My Wife's 'Milk Tea' Secret Divorce at the Baby Shower

Claire returned to work before her maternity leave had barely begun. In a standard thirty-day month, she worked overtime for twenty-nine of them. She left before dawn and returned long after midnight, too "busy" to spare a single glance at our daughter, who screamed until her throat was raw, begging to be fed.

I had reached my limit.

The breaking point wasn't a catastrophe, but a receipt—milk tea she'd bought for her colleagues. That was when I demanded a divorce.

The declaration hit the room like a bomb.

"Are you out of your mind?" someone shouted. "You're divorcing her over milk tea?"