The day my family declared bankruptcy, my fiancée turned around to marry her long-lost love. I said nothing and instead married Daphne, who had confessed her love to me and helped me out during a crisis. For seven years after our marriage, I cared for her paralyzed legs. Then, on the day she stood up, I accidentally overheard her speaking in French with her best friend. “Daphne, are you really planning to stay with him forever? What if your dear brother is heartbroken again?” Daphne peeled a shrimp for her daughter and replied calmly. “Of course not! My brother is my brother, and he is him. I could never bear to see my brother sad.” “I love Uncle just like Mom does, and I can’t stand ugly Daddy,” chimed in our daughter in French. Little did they know, I understand French. I no longer want to endure this half-hearted charade for the rest of my life. Daphne stroked her daughter’s forehead, visibly pleased, and praised her instinctively in French. “Sweetie, you’ve been such a good girl. Mommy and Uncle have not loved you in vain.” “When you’re a little older, Mommy and Uncle will give you a pretty little sister so you’ll have company at school.” Lily clapped her hands excitedly and responded in broken French. “Yay, that’s awesome.” “I love Uncle and Mommy the most, and I also like the pretty sister Mommy will have.” “It would be so much better if we didn’t have that mean Daddy at home. I don’t like him at all; he annoys me.” Hearing this, I was stunned, unable to believe my ears. Maybe she noticed my gaze on them, as Daphne smiled and placed a piece of bitter melon on my plate, her voice gentle. “Honey, what’s wrong?” I shook my head, my heart aching unbearably, with a suffocating feeling spreading throughout my body. Daphne might have forgotten that I was the first in this family to learn French. She also forgot that I never eat bitter melon. I put on a stern face. Seeing my silence, Daphne immediately became nervous and unsure, carefully holding my hand. “Honey, why do you suddenly look so upset?” I avoided her touch, forcing a smile. “Nothing, just surprised you forgot I don’t like bitter melon,” I said, pretending to be playful. “By the way, what were you talking about earlier? Were you speaking French?” Daphne’s expression stiffened, guilt making her avoid my gaze. “Nothing much, just Evan being jealous of our relationship.” She came up with a random excuse before shifting focus with a guilty look. “I’m sorry, honey, I forgot. I’ll remember next time, and I promise never to give you bitter melon again.” “My best, best, best husband, in this lifetime you can only experience sweetness, not bitterness.” She coaxed softly while picking out the bitter melon for me. Our daughter rolled her eyes at me and scoffed, “Hmph, so picky, eating it won’t kill you.” “You’re such a big person, yet you’re picky, it’s embarrassing.” Just a moment ago, Daphne was so gentle, but now she turned cold and scolded sharply. “Lily, how are you speaking to your father! Apologize now!” The daughter reluctantly stuck out her tongue, stubbornly muttering an apology. Even Daphne’s friend couldn’t stand it and made a couple of complaints. “Alright, we know you two have a good relationship, no need to show off, why scold the kid?” Daphne shot her a proud glare. “Hmph, you’re just jealous I have such a handsome and understanding husband. I’ll show off, I’m proud to have him, I’d boast eight hundred times a day if I could.” I put down my chopsticks, looking at Daphne indifferently. She acted as if she loved me deeply, and seeing me watching her, she instantly served a bowl of soup, blew on it, and brought it to my lips. “Honey, want some soup?” “Honey, these seven years you’ve worked hard, taking care of me and the child.” “Honey, now that I can walk again, rest assured in the days ahead, I’ll devote my life to loving you.” If I’d heard these words before, I’d have been moved to tears. But now, all that’s left in my heart is unspeakable pain and irony. She disguised it perfectly, and I almost believed that the French conversation was just my imagination.
Before I could speak, her friend glanced at her phone, then urged in French again. “Daphne, stop dawdling, your dear brother is calling you in the group chat. Don’t keep him waiting on such an important day.” Daphne froze, set the soup bowl down, and planted a kiss on my lips, looking a bit troubled. “Honey, let the nanny clean up these dishes, and you get to bed early, okay?” “A few friends are inviting me out, please, honey, give me permission.” Seeing her like this, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure, go ahead.” “But you better not do anything to betray me.” “If I find out, I’ll leave you without hesitation.” She froze, panic and unease flashing in her eyes. But with her phone ringing constantly, she eventually chose to pick it up and put on her coat. Walking out, she still tried to coax me earnestly. “Honey, don’t worry. I’ll always be yours, in life and death.” “My husband’s place is yours alone.” “Lily, listen to your dad at home, don’t upset him, or I’ll deal with you when I get back!” Only after that door completely separated us did I come to my senses, letting out a long sigh, my eyes growing warm. Our daughter glared at me disdainfully again, cursing me with French she thought I didn’t understand. “Ugly monster, a grown man crying, no wonder Mommy doesn’t like you.” “What a loser.” I laughed self-deprecatingly and wiped away a tear from the corner of my eye. I know I should let go, but I just can’t. Seven years of feelings, even cold stones should have warmed by now. I’m just unwilling for myself. Our daughter is six years old this year. Since birth, she hasn’t left me for a day. I’ve given all my love to them. For seven years, I’ve been a husband and a father, but never myself. But like her mom, she’s forgotten that I taught her French. For three days straight, Daphne didn’t come home. But she texted daily, gently reporting her whereabouts, saying her legs had recovered and she was a bit wild. I quietly watched, silently packing up, planning to leave. On the seventh day after Daphne hadn’t been home, I found the agreement in the email trash, clicked the link, and carefully signed my name. I’d taken 99 steps toward them; this last step, I want to walk toward my own life. I had just bought a ticket for three days later and was about to turn off my phone when I saw our daughter, who hadn’t spoken to me for seven days, glaring at me with a stern face. I didn’t embrace her like before, just calmly got up and left. She got angry, storming past me, cursing in the French I taught her. “Ugly monster, always bothering my mom.” “Who are you scaring with a lousy ticket? If you’re brave, really leave our home.”
I thought I’d feel heartache from her sarcasm again, but I was incredibly calm. Watching her run upstairs, I spoke in French. “Alright, I will leave.” As soon as those words fell, her tiny figure whipped around, her face frozen in shock as if she’d seen a ghost. She hurriedly tapped her smartwatch to send a message to her mom in French. “Mom, Mom, it’s bad, this old man understands French.” Within seconds, a voice message came back. It was Evan, clearly dismissive, “Lily, what nonsense are you spouting! Your dad’s been bankrupt for years, how could he have had a chance to learn French?” “Behave yourself, don’t disturb your mom and me these days.” “I’ll bring you some treats next time.” Lily scrutinized me with a tense little face, and seeing I had no reaction, she tossed aside what I’d said and happily replied. “Okay, Uncle, have fun with Mommy.” “Hope you two have a pretty sister for me soon.” These days I keep thinking about my past with Daphne, and after thinking, I force myself to forget. Lily’s room was filled with the sounds of video games, and I didn’t confiscate her console or urge her to sleep early as I used to. Nor did I remind her to do her homework, which the teacher would check tomorrow. Since she hates me so much, I might as well not be her dad. But I thought for days and couldn’t figure out why Daphne’s acting skill was so perfect. At two in the morning, I received another taunting message from Evan. “Declan, my sister’s been bugging me these days, she’s really greedy, aren’t you up for it?” “She also said you don’t interest her at all.” Along with the message was a photo. Daphne stood in front of him, his large hands ambiguously slipping into her collar, eyes filled with unmistakable desire. I self-destructively looked at it countless times, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed to burst, an indescribable pain. At 2 AM, I was hit with another taunting message from Logan Parker. “Declan Harris, my sister’s been driving me crazy lately. She’s so insatiable, are you really not up for it?” “She even said you don’t interest her in the slightest.” Attached to the message was a photo. Daphne was standing in front of him, his large hands suggestively slipping into her collar, his eyes filled with an undeniable lust. I compulsively watched it over and over, feeling as if my heart was being squeezed to the point of bursting, a pain beyond words. Gazing at the bleak moonlight outside, I recalled the time the Harris family went bankrupt. My fiancée abandoned me, and I was left with nothing. Then Daphne appeared by my side like a savior, helping me pay off debts, aiding my comeback. Back then, I truly believed that she, with her paralyzed legs, was my salvation. For seven years, she showered me with affection. People called her a husband-loving fanatic, loving me to the core. I thought so, too, and I let go of my pride, caring for her, cooking for her for seven whole years. But the truth was, she professed her love for me while being tangled with her non-blood-related brother. Even worse, it was only recently that I discovered she had been hiding countless encounters over these seven years, giving all her true affection to Logan Parker.
I spent a day burning every trace of myself, clothes, photos, leaving nothing behind. My flight is tomorrow. By then, they will no longer have anything to do with me. Daphne still hadn’t returned, but from Logan’s taunts, I knew she was busy. Really busy, exploring all sorts of positions with him. As for Dahlia, she treated me like I was invisible. One last time, I fulfilled my role as a father, cooking a meal she loved. But when she came back from school, she just snorted and ordered takeout, refusing to say a word to me. I watched the meal go cold as the night deepened. In a daze, I heard faint movements at the door. By the moonlight, I saw Daphne finally willing to come home with her beloved. Daphne’s cheeks were flushed as she straddled Logan’s waist, seeking kisses, her delicate hands teasing provocatively downward. Logan, with one hand pressing her head, deepened the kiss dominantly, while the other securely supported her hips. They entered in a hurry, kissing passionately, undressing. In between breaths, Daphne whispered. “Brother, don’t wake my brother-in-law.” Logan jealously bit her earlobe, his voice full of grievance. “Good sister, didn’t you say I was your favorite?” “Didn’t you say doing it at home with Declan watching was more thrilling?” “Didn’t you say Declan was just a tool to protect our love?” “Why do you make me call him brother-in-law?” Seeing Logan sad, Daphne felt heartbroken, lovingly kissing him while soothing him gently. “Brother, isn’t it more exciting this way?” Their amorous sighs grew louder, tearing open the wounds in my already bleeding heart. Curled on the couch, the nauseating smell made my heart feel dead. I don’t know how long it was before the two, moving from the kitchen to the living room, noticed my presence. Daphne’s breath quickened. She covered Logan’s mouth, stifling the lust in her eyes. They went upstairs, clinging to each other. In the silent night, only her suppressed warning remained. “Brother, don’t mess around, if Declan finds out, he’ll definitely go down fighting.” “He’s still Dahlia’s dad; we can’t make it too ugly.” … I don’t know how long it took, but Daphne came downstairs, cautiously covering me with a blanket. The scent of their dalliance still clung to her, and her open collar showed dense kiss marks. I rigidly pushed her hand away, and she sensed something was wrong. “Honey, what’s wrong? Are you mad because I haven’t been home to keep you company?” I shook my head bitterly. “No.” “Daphne, I dreamt you cheated.” She froze, panic in her eyes as she looked at me. “Honey, what nonsense are you talking? I swear, you’ll be my only husband in this life!” At that moment, I was too disgusted to speak, stubbornly turning my head, curling up in bed, exhausted. “I’m a bit tired. I’m going to sleep now.” I turned away, not wanting to see her anymore.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295745”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn
Leave a Reply