After Edward’s undercover work ended, it felt like he had become a different person. He would often stare blankly out of the window, with sadness and melancholy in his eyes. He no longer lifted our daughter up and twirled her around, calling her “baby.” He stopped bringing flowers home after work, and he even avoided my affectionate gestures. Later, on the day our daughter Doris was hit by a car, I saw him tenderly kissing another woman in the rain. I was in a meeting when I received the news about Doris’s accident. When I heard the words “died on the spot,” I froze. I rushed to the funeral home like a madwoman, finding Doris’s contorted body lying on a cold table. The yellow dress I personally put on her that morning became her burial clothing. Chaos surrounded me—some people tried to console me, others were interrogating, and the truck driver was hurriedly explaining, “It was your daughter who ran the red light. It’s not my fault!” I collapsed to the ground, desperately yelling, “How could she run a red light? Where is her father? Where is her father?” “Mrs. Jane, your daughter was alone when she got off the bus. We didn’t see any accompanying adult,” a police officer told me. I had always taken Doris to her piano lessons, but this one time, she asked for her daddy to take her. Ever since Edward came back from his year-long assignment, his attitude towards us had become cold and distant. He liked to be alone, avoided eye contact with me, often made excuses to sit in the car and smoke, and even got irritated with Doris’s playful requests. Our beloved daughter couldn’t understand why her dad had changed. Innocently, she just wanted to mend their relationship. I agreed, sending the two of them off before heading to my meeting. I never imagined that this one time would cost Doris her life. I called Edward repeatedly, only to be met with busy signals. My own parents were far away, and with my mother-in-law gravely ill, I was left to face this devastating blow alone. Finally, under my signature, Doris was reduced to a small box of ashes. Holding her ashes, I walked back to the neighborhood like a zombie, only to find Edward. He was in the rain, gently lifting the face of another woman and kissing her deeply. The woman was petite, nestled softly in Edward’s arms. They kissed for so long that even I, as an onlooker, had not noticed. Doris’s tragic demise flashed through my mind, juxtaposed with the scene before me. It was almost laughable. At this moment, I didn’t know whether to feel anger or sorrow. I didn’t even have the energy to question or rage; I just stood there, empty-headed. I should have seen it coming. Given Edward’s unique job, I had always known I’d have to manage the household independently when I married him. For seven years, I worked during the day and tended to my ailing mother-in-law at night. I single-handedly set up our new home, carrying tiles up six flights of stairs to save a few hundred dollars. When I got pregnant, I fainted from vomiting in the bathroom and lay there for seven or eight hours before anyone discovered me. I attended prenatal appointments alone, feeling out of place among couples. My water broke in the middle of the night, but I took a cab to the hospital by myself and signed the necessary papers alone. When I was sad, he wasn’t there. When I was happy, he still wasn’t. I was like a lone ranger; many asked where my husband was, but due to confidentiality, I would brush them off, making me seem like a pitiful widow.
I always believed my sacrifices were worth it because he loved his job, and I loved him. We had happy times too. When he wasn’t busy, he’d travel two hours just to get a cake for me. He’d come home with a bouquet of roses, stay up all night to care for the newborn Doris, change diapers, feed her, and do household chores. He loved holding my face, pressing his forehead against mine, and saying, “Jane, thank you. Without you, we wouldn’t have this family. I will always love you.” Then he went on that year-long assignment. I didn’t know what he was doing, but once, I ran into him selling seafood at a market. I pretended we were strangers and walked past him. After that, we had no contact for a year. When he returned, he was like a different person. He could go the whole day without speaking a word and showed no concern for our household. It was like a stranger sleeping next to me. I tried to mend our relationship, but Edward found excuses to avoid me. He eventually looked at me with a strange expression and sarcastically said, “I never realized before how much you crave intimacy.” Now, I finally understood our problem. I stood there for a long time before the woman noticed me. She seemed flustered, pushing Edward away and nervously shrinking into his arms. Edward’s face showed a rare hint of panic. He instinctively shielded the woman before quickly calming down and said, “Jane, she’s innocent. Don’t take your anger out on her. I’ll come home and explain.” “No need.” I coldly looked at the man I once loved deeply and asked, “I asked you to take Doris to her piano lesson. Where did you go?” “I got a work call and couldn’t leave. I watched her get on the bus. It was only a couple of blocks after getting off. She’s four; she knows the way.” Edward explained. Grief made me double over, barely able to stand. Tears mixed with rainwater streamed down my face. Doris was only four years old. He let a four-year-old girl take a half-hour bus ride alone and then walk another kilometer to her lesson. He knew better than anyone how dangerous the world could be, yet he neglected his own daughter. “Is this ‘work’ you mentioned just making out with her?” I raised my voice, pointing at the girl in his arms. She looked young, possibly still in college, and she bit her lip nervously, trembling. Edward instinctively comforted her before looking at me with impatience. “Jane, stop scaring her. Try to understand the demands of my job, you used to be reasonable…” I couldn’t hold it in any longer and slapped him hard. The girl screamed and reached out to touch Edward’s cheek, her face full of concern. “We’re getting a divorce.” With that, I walked away without looking back. Two hours later, Edward came back. Seeing that I had packed up most of the house, he frowned deeply. “I’m exhausted. Can you stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum?” “You think this is a tantrum?” I was too tired to argue, just staring coldly at him.
“Edward, do you even care about this family? If you did, Doris wouldn’t have…” “Michelle started out as just a friend,” Edward interrupted me roughly. He was silent for a long time before slowly beginning to talk about the other woman. “This past year, she’s been there for me, doing everything for me.” As he spoke, his expression softened. Edward described Michelle as a foolish girl who knew he had a family but still loved him steadfastly. He said she had a hero complex and had risked her life to save him several times. He said she was carefree, liked to wear short skirts, and frequently had wardrobe malfunctions, but she would complain that he was too controlling. He talked about their countless nights huddled together for warmth, holding hands and leaning against each other, feeling like he was ten years younger. In the end, he said, “I know our relationship has gone beyond friendship. Give me time, and I’ll forget her and live properly with you.” Edward closed his eyes, looking pained. “She’s young and naive, but I can’t be. I’ve already wasted a year of her life. I can’t keep holding her back.” I could barely breathe. Edward knew what he was saying. He was telling his wife about his romance with another woman. It felt like I was the third party, forcing him to abandon his true love for family duty. Edward remembered her sacrifices for him, but what about mine? Did my seven years of love and dedication mean nothing? After a long pause, I regained my composure. “I’ll give you freedom instead.” I grabbed my suitcase and pushed past him, heading downstairs. Edward grabbed my hand, his eyes pleading. “Jane, I promise, today was my last meeting with her. I still love you. I want to give Doris a complete family…” “Don’t mention Doris!” I lost control, hurling my bag at him. Sharp decorations cut his face and neck, causing blood to flow. He stood there, stunned. I didn’t look back and left. I rented an apartment near my office, contacted a lawyer, and started packing up, arranging my daughter’s funeral. While I was busy, the hospital called. “Jane, your mother-in-law Alice has taken a turn for the worse. Please come quickly…” I grabbed my bag and rushed out. Alice had terminal cancer. After marrying Edward, I had taken it upon myself to care for her. I did everything except bear the pain of her illness. Over seven years, I spent at least four nights a week at the hospital. Only these past few days, overwhelmed by Doris’s situation, did I forget about Alice in the hospital. Rushing in, I didn’t expect to find Michelle chatting happily with Alice. She wasn’t wearing the short skirts Edward mentioned but was dressed modestly in long sleeves and pants, looking clean and respectable. Anyone would find her likable. Alice and Michelle seemed very close, talking like mother and daughter. “Alice…” I croaked. Alice quickly waved me over to introduce me. “Jane, this is Edward’s coworker’s sister. Did he mention her?” Michelle looked nervous when she saw me, standing up from her chair. She stammered, “We’ve met…” Not responding, I watched Michelle’s eyes redden as she lowered her head and ran out, bumping into Edward coming in. She seemed relieved, grabbing his sleeve and hiding behind him, looking at me. Edward held a medical report, frowning at me. “Jane, you can be mad at me, but my mom did nothing to you. Is this how you’ve been taking care of her?” He threw the report at me, words like “critical condition” and “organ failure” glaring back at me. Before I could respond, Alice shouted, “Shut up!” “If not for Jane, I’d have died in the hospital long ago. You, who I barely see twice a year, have no right to say anything about Jane!”
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