After Ryan’s undercover work ended, he seemed like a different person. He would often stare blankly out the window, his eyes filled with an inescapable melancholy and sadness. He no longer lifted our daughter, spinning her around and calling her his baby girl. He stopped bringing flowers home as a surprise after work. He even awkwardly shied away from my intimate gestures. Later, on the day our daughter had a car accident, I saw him passionately yet restrainedly kissing a girl in the pouring rain. I was still in a meeting when I received the news about our daughter’s car accident. When I heard the words “died on the spot,” it felt like lightning had struck me, shattering my world. I rushed to the funeral home like a madwoman, only to see my daughter’s twisted body lying on a cold table. The yellow floral dress I had helped her put on that morning had now become her burial clothes. Everything around me was chaotic. Some people were trying to comfort me, while others were asking questions. The truck driver was frantically explaining, “Your daughter suddenly crossed the road. It had nothing to do with me!” I collapsed on the ground, desperately crying out, “How could she have crossed the road alone? Where’s her father? Where is he?” “Mrs. Lee, your daughter was getting off the bus alone. We didn’t see any adult accompanying her,” the police officer said with a hint of sympathy. I had always picked up and dropped off our daughter for her after-school program. Only this time, she had timidly asked if her dad could take her. Ever since Ryan returned from his year-long business trip, his attitude towards us had become very cold. He often sat alone lost in thought, avoiding eye contact with me. Even calling me changed from the affectionate “Mia” to the formal “Zhimiao.” He frequently made excuses to sit in the car and smoke, and he seemed uncomfortable and even annoyed when our daughter tried to act cute around him. Our once-doted-on daughter didn’t understand what had happened to her dad and innocently wanted to mend their relationship. I agreed, and after sending them off, I went to the office for a meeting. But I never imagined that this one time I let go would cost my daughter her life. I kept calling Ryan, but all I got was a busy signal. With my mother-in-law seriously ill and my parents far away in our hometown, I had to face this devastating blow to life alone. In the end, with my signature, my daughter was reduced to a small box of ashes. Holding my daughter’s urn, I returned to our neighborhood like a walking corpse, only to be stunned by the sight of Ryan. In the pouring rain, he gently and restrainedly lifted the face of the girl opposite him, planting a deep kiss. The girl was petite and delicate, gradually losing strength as she was overwhelmed by the kiss, her soft body enveloped in Ryan’s arms. They kissed passionately, so absorbed that they didn’t even notice me as an onlooker. Images of my daughter’s tragic death flashed through my mind, intertwining with the scene before me, creating an absurdly jarring picture. At that moment, I didn’t know whether to be angry or heartbroken. I didn’t even have the strength to confront them or lose my mind. I just stood there, my mind blank. I should have seen this coming. Ryan’s job was of a special nature, and when I married him, I was prepared to independently support a family. For seven years, I worked during the day and cared for my sick mother-in-law at the hospital at night. I single-handedly arranged everything for our new home, carrying heavy tiles up six floors just to save a few hundred dollars. When bullied by neighbors, I had to muster up the courage to argue back, clutching a kitchen knife for protection. Later, when I got pregnant, I fainted in the bathroom for seven or eight hours before someone found me. I went to prenatal check-ups alone, feeling out of place among the couples at the obstetrics department. When my water broke in the middle of the night, I took a taxi to the hospital by myself, forcing myself to sign the consent forms. When I was sad, he wasn’t by my side. When I was happy, he still wasn’t there. I was like a lone ranger. Whenever people asked about my husband, I had to give vague answers due to confidentiality, which led many to assume I was a pitiful widow.
I always felt that my sacrifices were worth it. He deeply loved his profession, and I deeply loved him. We had our happy moments too. When he wasn’t busy, he would drive two hours just to buy me a small cake. He would bring home a bouquet of roses after work. During my postpartum confinement, he would stay up all night to take care of our daughter, changing diapers, feeding her, and doing housework with ease. He loved to cup my face in his hands, pressing his forehead against mine, and say with deep emotion, “Mia, thank you for everything. Without you, we wouldn’t have this home.” “I will love you forever.” Until he went on a business trip for a year. I didn’t know the content of his work, but I once bumped into him butchering meat at a farmer’s market. I vaguely understood something then, pretending to be a stranger as we passed by, and hadn’t contacted him for a year since. I never expected that after he returned, he would be like a completely different person. He could go an entire day without saying a word, showing no interest in anything in our home. At night, we slept in the same bed, but it felt like there was an insurmountable chasm between us. Our home was filled with an awkward, half-baked atmosphere. I tried to ease the tension between us, but Ryan kept avoiding me, making various excuses. Finally, he even looked at me with an extremely unfamiliar gaze and said sarcastically, “How come I never noticed before that you have such a strong libido?” Until now, I finally understood where the problem between us lay. I stood there for a long time. Finally, the girl noticed me. She nervously pushed Ryan away, hiding in his arms with a blushing face. Ryan’s face flashed with rare panic. He instinctively shielded the girl behind him, quickly regaining his composure: “Zhimiao, she’s innocent. Don’t take it out on her. I’ll explain when we get home…” “No need.” I looked coldly at the man I once loved deeply, enunciating each word: “I asked you to take Lily to her after-school program. Where did you go?” “I received an urgent work call and couldn’t get away,” Ryan explained. “I watched Lily get on the bus. It’s just two blocks from the bus stop to the class, and she’s already four years old. She knows the way.” A heart-wrenching pain made me double over, almost unable to stand. Tears mixed with rain streamed down my face. Lily was only four years old, yet he let a four-year-old little girl take a half-hour bus ride alone and then walk a kilometer to class. He knew better than anyone how dangerous society could be, yet he was so negligent with his own daughter. “So your so-called work was kissing this girl?!” I raised my voice, pointing at the girl shrinking in his arms. She looked very young, possibly still in college. She was biting her lower lip vulnerably, trembling at my outburst. Ryan instinctively hugged her, first lowering his head to comfort her not to be afraid, then looking up at me with an impatient tone. “Mia Lee, don’t scare the kid. Please try to understand the special nature of my work. You used to be so understanding…” I couldn’t hold back anymore and rushed over to slap him hard across the face. The girl screamed in fright, reaching out to caress Ryan’s face with concern. “Let’s get a divorce,” I said. With that, I turned and left without looking back. Two hours later, Ryan finally came home. Seeing that I had packed up half the house, he frowned deeply. “I’m already exhausted. Can you stop throwing tantrums like a child?” he said. “You think I’m throwing a tantrum?” I was too mentally and physically drained to even argue, just looking at him coldly.
“Ryan Shaw, do you even care about this family anymore? If you truly cared about us, Lily wouldn’t have…” “Emma is my adopted sister,” Ryan interrupted me roughly. He fell silent for a long while, then slowly began to tell the story of himself and that girl. “This past year, she’s been the one taking care of me. She’s done so much for me.” Ryan’s expression softened as he spoke of their history. He said Emma was a silly girl who, despite knowing he was married, still recklessly gave her heart to him. He said she loved watching superhero shows, had a hero complex, and liked to show off. Several times, she put herself in danger trying to save him. He said she was carefree and liked wearing short skirts, always accidentally flashing people, then complaining that he was too controlling. He talked about their countless nights huddled together for warmth, holding hands, legs touching, their breath on each other’s faces. The girl would chatter on about her little troubles, like not having enough credits, her counselor not approving her leave request, her roommate being annoying… He felt like he had also become ten years younger, returning to his youthful days. Finally, he said, “I know our relationship has gone beyond that of siblings now.” “Give me time. I’ll forget about her and live well with you.” Ryan closed his eyes, showing a pained expression. “She’s still young and doesn’t understand. I should know better. I’ve already wasted a year of her life. I can’t continue to hold her back.” I could barely breathe. Did Ryan realize what he was saying? He was telling his wife about his love story with someone else. It was as if I were the third party, maliciously interfering in his and Emma’s love, forcing him to give up his true love to fulfill family responsibilities. Ryan remembered her sacrifices for him, but what about me? Were my seven years of love and seven years of protection all for nothing? After a long while, I calmed down: “I’ll just give you your freedom directly.” I picked up my suitcase and pushed past him to go downstairs. Ryan grabbed my hand, meeting my gaze with a pleading look in his eyes: “Zhimiao, I promise, today was the last time I’ll see her. I still love you. I want to give Lily a complete family…” “Don’t mention Lily to me!” I completely lost control, forcefully throwing my bag at him. Sharp decorations on the bag cut Ryan’s face and neck, drawing blood. He stood there stunned as I left without looking back. I rented a small apartment near my company, contacting a lawyer while packing up and handling our daughter’s affairs. While I was busy, I received a call from the hospital. “Mrs. Lee, your mother-in-law has had another attack. Please come quickly…” My heart tightened suddenly, and I grabbed my bag and rushed out. My mother-in-law was in the late stages of cancer. After marrying Ryan, I had voluntarily taken on the task of caring for her, attending to her daily needs, checking and getting her medications, and managing her diet. I did everything I could except bear the pain of her illness for her. For seven years, rain or shine, I stayed at the hospital at least four days a week. Only these past two days, because of what happened to our daughter, I had been distracted and forgotten about my mother-in-law still in the hospital. I rushed over anxiously, but to my surprise, when I opened the door, I saw Emma smilingly coaxing my mother-in-law to drink some porridge. She wasn’t wearing short skirts like Ryan had said, but long pants and long sleeves, looking proper and clean, like the girl next door that anyone would instinctively like. My mother-in-law was chatting happily with her, the two looking as close as mother and daughter. “…Mom,” I called out hoarsely. My mother-in-law quickly waved me over, introducing with a warm smile: “Mia, this is Ryan’s colleague’s sister. Has he mentioned her to you?” Emma saw me and couldn’t hide her nervousness, awkwardly standing up from her chair. She stammered, “We’ve… we’ve met…” Seeing that I didn’t respond, Emma’s eyes gradually reddened, and she ran out with her head down like a frightened rabbit, only to bump into Ryan who had just entered. She immediately relaxed as if she had found her anchor, grabbing Ryan’s sleeve and hiding behind him, timidly looking at me. Ryan was holding some test results, his brows furrowed as he questioned me: “Zhimiao, if you have issues with me, I have nothing to say. But hasn’t my mom always treated you well? Is this how you take care of her for me?!” He forcefully threw the papers at me. The words “critical condition” and “imminent death” caught my eye. Before I could say anything, a nurse who had been observing couldn’t hold back anymore and angrily said: “Your wife has taken excellent care of your mom. Have you ever tried caring for a patient non-stop for seven years?!” “Your mom already had an incurable cancer. The fact that she’s survived until today is all thanks to your wife’s dedicated care! As for you, her son, how many times have you visited the hospital in seven years? You can count it on one hand, right?” Ryan was chastened into regaining some sense, hanging his head dejectedly. Emma couldn’t bear to listen anymore and retorted: “Ryan’s work is special. He doesn’t have time…” “He has time for an affair but no time to care for his own mother?!” the nurse blurted out. The hallway suddenly fell silent. A doctor came over and pulled her away, and the nurse shut up, still indignant. Emma’s eyes reddened, about to cry again. But at this moment, Ryan had no energy to comfort her. He said hoarsely: “Bring Lily back. Let her see her grandmother one last time.
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