My husband said he was going on a business trip to Da Nang for a whole week. He told me to just stay home and rest; no need to visit his parents in the countryside. But for some reason, that day my intuition told me otherwise, so I decided to take the bus and surprise my in-laws.
The moment I stepped through the gate, what caught my eye was not my mother-in-law’s gentle smile, nor my father-in-law’s frail figure sweeping the yard. Instead, I froze when I saw baby diapers—an entire line of them—hanging from the drying rack to the wires across the yard. Some were stained yellow, others with traces of milk.
I stood there, paralyzed. My in-laws were both over sixty. There was no way they had a baby. No relatives had left a child with them either. So… whose diapers were those?
I trembled as I walked inside. The house was unusually quiet, yet I caught a faint smell of baby formula. On the table sat a half-finished baby bottle. My heart pounded, my mind in chaos. Was my husband hiding something from me?
Just then, a baby’s cry came from the old room my husband and I usually used whenever we came home. I rushed over, fumbling to open the latch. The door swung open—and there on the bed was a newborn, squirming in its diaper, while my mother-in-law was hurriedly changing its clothes.
When she saw me, she turned pale as if all the blood drained from her face. I stammered:
— Mom… whose child is this?
She trembled, avoiding my eyes, and finally muttered only one line:
— Don’t blame us… this baby is the family’s blood.
My whole body turned cold. My husband’s words, his strange business trips, my mother-in-law’s evasions—all of it swirled into a storm in my head.
Could it be… my husband had a child outside our marriage?
I collapsed onto a chair, my eyes fixed on the baby. It looked so much like him—the forehead, the eyes… There was no denying it. My throat tightened, while my mother-in-law clutched the infant with trembling hands.
— Mom… what is going on? — I demanded.
Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered:
— This child… belongs to Hùng. We weren’t going to hide it forever, but his father said, “Wait for the right time.” Who knew you’d come home so suddenly…
My world shattered. So those trips, those excuses—everything was just a cover for this awful truth.
— Where’s the baby’s mother? — I choked out.
My mother-in-law lowered her gaze:
— She left the baby and disappeared… Poor Hùng has been struggling alone, so…
She hadn’t even finished speaking when the gate creaked open. Familiar footsteps entered. I spun around—my husband dragged his suitcase inside, his face startled to see me there.
— Why… why are you here? — he stammered, his expression shifting when he spotted the baby in his mother’s arms.
I shot up, eyes blazing:
— Your so-called “business trip to Da Nang”… was just you here taking care of your illegitimate child, wasn’t it?
The air turned suffocating. My mother-in-law clutched the baby, my father-in-law froze at the doorway, and my husband broke into a cold sweat.
I stormed forward, nearly shouting:
— Say it! This child is yours, isn’t it?
He stayed silent for a long moment before finally nodding.
My heart shattered. All my love, trust, sacrifices—turned to dust.
I let out a bitter, mocking laugh:
— So all these years, I was just a puppet while you lived a double life—husband to me, father to another woman’s child.
He rushed over, grabbing my hand, pleading:
— Please, listen to me, it’s not what you think… I was going to tell you, but—
I yanked my hand back, eyes burning with fury:
— Not what I think? Then what, the baby just fell from the sky?
The house fell into heavy silence. My mother-in-law wanted to speak, but I raised my hand to stop her. I wanted the truth straight from him.
— How long did you plan to hide this? Until the child grew up calling me “Auntie”? Or until I couldn’t bear children, and you used this as an excuse to throw me away?
He bowed his head in silence. That silence was the cruelest confession of all.
I drew a deep breath and stood tall, my voice resolute:
— Fine. You have a child, and I have my dignity. Divorce me. I refuse to be a pitiful woman in anyone’s eyes.
He panicked:
— No! I was wrong, but think of our family, think of my parents…
I glared at him coldly:
— You’re the one who never thought of this family.
With that, I turned and walked out, leaving behind the sound of the baby crying, my husband’s desperate calls, and my mother-in-law’s sobs.
But I didn’t stop. Only one thought burned in my mind: I will start over—but never with him again.
