He Divorced His Pregnant Wife at Her Father's Funeral — Unaware She Just Inherited $750M

The rain fell in sheets as Sarah Chen stood beside her father's grave, one hand pressed against her eight-month belly, the other clutching a black umbrella that did little to shield her from the December storm. Behind her, mourners huddled under their own umbrellas, their whispered condolences barely audible over the drumming rain.

Her husband Marcus stood apart from the crowd, checking his phone with the barely concealed impatience he'd perfected over the past six months. Sarah watched him through the corner of her eye, noting how he kept glancing toward the parking lot where his silver Porsche waited, probably calculating how quickly he could escape this obligation.

The priest's voice droned on about dust and ashes, but Sarah's mind was elsewhere. Her father, David Chen, had died three days ago of a sudden heart attack at sixty-two. He'd been planning to meet her for lunch that day, had left a voicemail saying they needed to discuss something important about her future. She'd never gotten the chance to call him back.

Now he was being lowered into the ground beside her mother, who'd passed when Sarah was twelve, and the only family she had left was the child growing inside her and the husband who could barely stand to look at her anymore.

Marcus's phone rang, shrill and inappropriate in the cemetery's somber quiet. He answered it without hesitation, turning away from the service and speaking in hushed tones that still carried across the wet grass. Sarah heard fragments: "...finally... yes, I'll handle it today... she won't suspect anything..."

Her stomach clenched with something beyond grief. In the six months since she'd announced her pregnancy, Marcus had transformed from the attentive partner she'd married into a stranger who worked late every night and barely spoke to her over breakfast. She'd caught him twice deleting text messages before she could see the screen. Once, she'd found a restaurant receipt in his jacket pocket for a dinner that cost more than their monthly mortgage—a dinner he'd claimed was a business meeting, though the itemized bill showed two champagne cocktails and crème brûlée for dessert.

The service ended, and people began approaching Sarah with their sympathies. Marcus's parents were notably absent, claiming a prior commitment in San Francisco despite knowing the funeral date for weeks. His mother, Patricia, had sent a massive flower arrangement instead, the kind that screamed "we spent money so we don't have to actually show up."