I Quit His Rules Novel by Gibsonnia _ Novel




I Quit His Rules Chapter 01

Don’t kiss him during sex, don’t touch him except he asked, don’t share food during meal time.
These were the rules my husband Thomas asked me to follow.
He even thought the cup I drank from was dirty.
But at a gathering, I watched him drink from the same glass with his first love, Madeleine Romero, just to keep her from more alcohol.
That was when I knew our marriage was over.
***
I was the one who helped Thomas through the door.
He'd taken too many drinks for Madeleine and was barely conscious.
Before leaving, Madeleine looked at me with a guilty expression and said, "Sorry, Ms. Chapman. It's my fault Tommo drank so much.
"I got drunk once before and almost kissed another guy. After that, he wouldn't let me drink too much anymore."
Her hand kept patting Thomas' chest to soothe him.
She even reminded me to make him honey tea when we got home.
If it had been anyone else, they probably would've slapped her.
But I calmly took Thomas from her and said nothing.
It wasn't that I was a pushover. I just knew my place—a woman he married out of responsibility, not love.
In the end, I poured him a glass of warm water.
Even drunk, he still asked instinctively when he took the cup, "Whose cup is this?"
"Yours," I said softly.
Only then did he drink.
I'd known about Thomas' germophobia from the start.
Right after we got married, he had a sudden stomachache and asked for medicine.
In a hurry, I filled my own cup with water and handed it to him.
When he realized, he smashed the cup in anger.
"Didn't I say I don't use other people's cups?"
It was the first time I'd seen Thomas that furious. I stood there, too scared to speak.
When he saw my reaction, his tone softened. "It's not your fault. I'm just not comfortable sharing things with others. Just remember next time."
But in that private room earlier, he used Madeleine's things so naturally.
It turned out he wasn't uncomfortable using other people's things. He only used Madeleine's.
The realization made my nose sting.
I always knew what Madeleine meant to him, but she'd been overseas before, and Thomas never mentioned her.
And he stayed distant and polite with everyone.
So, I thought I could keep living like that.
But it hit me hard when I saw how he treated Madeleine and took good care of her.
All the grievances I once thought I didn't care about finally overwhelmed me in a second.
Suddenly, I felt exhausted.
Maybe I didn't have to endure this, and maybe leaving would be better for both of us.
After helping Thomas back to his room, I returned to mine to wash up.
We usually slept in separate rooms.
Only on the first and 15th of each month would he come over, supposedly to do what was expected of us as a couple.
But whenever he got drunk, he would act like a child, insisting on sleeping with me, clinging to me, and refusing to let go.
Just like now.
I didn't even know when Thomas had come in.
The moment I lay down, a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped around me.
Before I could react, I was pulled tightly into his chest.
He smiled in satisfaction and fell asleep.
In the past, even if I disliked the smell of alcohol, I'd convince myself to just bear it.
After all, the Delacruz family had done too much for me.
But tonight, I didn't want to tolerate it anymore.
I struggled out of his arms.
If he liked this room, I would sleep somewhere else.
There were plenty of rooms in the Delacruz's residence.
As soon as I stepped out, I saw my son, Christopher Delacruz, standing at the door.
He was peeking inside with worry, probably worried about Thomas.
I crouched down and ruffled his hair with a smile. "Why are you still awake, Chris? Don't you have kindergarten tomorrow? Go to bed."
Christopher slapped my hand away. His eyes, identical to Thomas', looked at me with disgust.
He said, "Amanda, you're not qualified to tell me what to do."
Yes. He addressed me by my name and not "Mom."
After being called an illegitimate child by outsiders and learning that I only married into the Delacruz family because I was pregnant with him, Christopher began to hate me.
He forgot how I stayed up all night when he was sick and forgot how he used to curl into my arms and say I was his favorite.
Now, what he wanted most was for me not to be his mother at all.
Watching Christopher run back to his room, I let out a quiet sigh and went to the guest room across the hall.
After closing the door, I called my former supervisor, Helena Whitley.
"Helena, I've made up my mind. I'll go to Paris with you."

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