Part 1Their Vicious Oaths Came True

The day of my son’s wedding began with a sharp, metallic click.

Nathan reached out and unpinned the "Mother of the Groom" corsage from my lapel. He didn’t look me in the eye.

"Mom, don’t come up for the toast," he said, his voice low and clinical. "I want Sonia to stand up there with Dad. We owe her this much, after all these years."

I felt the air leave my lungs. "You’re asking me to hide at my own son’s wedding?"

"Don't make a scene," Nathan sighed, finally looking at me with a mix of pity and annoyance. "Dad has spent his whole life with a woman he doesn’t love. He’s sixty now. Let him have this one moment of peace. Just this once, let him be happy."

I was ushered to the back of the room, seated at a table near the service entrance—right next to Sonia’s lapdog in its rhinestone carrier.

I watched from the shadows as Nathan stood at the podium, tears streaming down his face as he thanked his 'parents.' I watched my husband, Arthur, grip Sonia’s hand under the table, his face glowing with a radiance he had never once offered me.

In that moment, something inside me didn't just break. It died.

That evening, the three of them—Arthur, Nathan, and Sonia—walked into our house like they owned the air I breathed.

"It is what it is," Arthur said, adjusting his glasses. "I’ve been unfaithful. You have two choices. You can sign the divorce papers and give Sonia her rightful place."

He paused, glancing at the woman clinging to his arm. "Or, you can clear out a guest room. Sonia is moving in. We’re going to live here together."

Looking at their united front, a jagged, hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat.

"Do either of you remember the oaths you swore?" I asked, my voice trembling. "The ones you insisted on making?"

Arthur scoffed. "People change, Claire. Only a child clings to words spoken decades ago."

But they forgot one thing. My "System"—the Moral Arbiter that had governed my life since I arrived in this world—didn't care about the passage of time. It was a cold, cosmic bookkeeper. And once the target of my devotion turned unfaithful, those "vicious oaths" weren't just metaphors. They were debt notices.

* * *

[System Notification: Infidelity detected. The 'Vicious Oath' protocol has been forcibly initiated. Host is advised to finalize the divorce and distance herself from the targets immediately.]

I looked at Sonia. I hadn’t even opened my mouth, but she already had that practiced, watery-eyed look. She was one of those women who had never married, never had children, and it gave her a preserved, fragile quality that made her look ten years younger than me.

Pretty. Young. Vulnerable. She was the perfect bait for a man’s hero complex.

Arthur grew impatient with my silence. "I meant it when I said I loved you back then," he said, his tone darkening. "And I mean it now when I say I don't. We aren't kids. What’s the point in dragging up old ghosts?"

He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. "I remember what I said. I told you that if I ever betrayed you, I’d lose my reputation, my fortune, and die a slow, agonizing death. Does that sound realistic to you? It was pillow talk, Claire. Heat-of-the-moment nonsense."

He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "If every man who cheated actually dropped dead, the world would be an empty place."

Nathan stepped forward, siding with his father. "Exactly, Mom. Everyone makes dramatic promises when they're young. Remember when you and Dad used to fight? I told you that if you ever left him, and if I ever called another woman 'Mom,' I’d go blind and deaf and end up starving on the streets."

He walked past me, dismissive and cold, and handed a cup of tea to Sonia with a reverence he hadn't shown me in years.

"Sonia is going to live here. She’s part of this family now. Effectively, she’s my mother too," he said with a mocking grin. "I’ve accepted her, and look—I can still see, I can still hear. I’m doing just fine. Stop lying to yourself."

They were right about one thing: to them, a man’s word was no better than a dog’s bark.

But when they had made those oaths, I had warned them. I had told them, with absolute clarity, what the consequences would be. Back then, they had been so sincere, so desperate to prove their loyalty.

Now, they treated it like a joke.

"Your oaths will be answered," I said, my voice eerily calm. "Just wait."

Their faces soured. They looked at me as if I were a delusional patient in a psych ward. Before they could speak, Sonia suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me, tears overflowing.

"Claire, please," she sobbed. "I’m not trying to take your place. I just want a home with Arthur. Please, just let me stay. I’ll do anything."

The sight of her "humility" sent Arthur into a protective rage. He hauled her up, his eyes cold and sharp as glass.

"Don't beg her," he snapped. "I wasn't really asking for your permission, Claire. Sonia stays. If you don't like it, we divorce. But let’s be honest—you’d never leave this life. You’re too comfortable."

Nathan rolled his eyes and signaled the maid to start moving things into the third-floor guest suite.

"Mom, don't be so selfish," Nathan said. "You've had Dad all to yourself for thirty years. Wasn't that enough? If Sonia were as greedy as you, you would have been out of the picture decades ago. They have a 'True Love' connection. They should be in the master bedroom. You should be the one to move..."

"No need," I interrupted, my voice cutting through his nonsense. "I choose divorce."

Arthur froze. The smugness flickered for a fraction of a second. He hadn't expected me to actually walk.

Nathan, however, didn't care. He turned to Sonia with a bright, triumphant smile. "That’s even better, Sonia! Once the papers are signed and you and Dad get hitched, we’ll be a real family."

I looked at their joyous faces and thought: Laugh while you can.

I went upstairs, packed my essentials, and headed for the door. As I reached the handle, Arthur grabbed my wrist.