While driving my grandson, Jason Watson, to school, I accidentally had a car accident. The police came to check the dashcam. As soon as the dashcam was turned on, I heard the sounds of my husband, Timothy Watson, and a woman making out. Jason blinked and asked me what it was. I hurriedly covered his ears but couldn’t hold back my tears. After getting married, Timothy and I had a child, but he refused to sleep with me on the grounds of his poor health and treated me coldly for 40 years. I have worked hard for this family for half my life, but in the end, my efforts became a complete joke. ***** I stared at the dashcam in disbelief, shaking with anger. It recorded thousands of videos, and each was evidence of their affair. Although I couldn’t see the two of them, the constantly shaking images reminded me how passionate they were. I could imagine how my husband pressed the woman under him and made out with her passionately, how he gently caressed every inch of her skin and kissed her lovingly, and how he said endearing words that he had never said to me. Every word and every breath wrenched my heart. I grasped the fabric over my chest tightly, feeling as if a knife were piercing my heart. It hurt so much that I couldn’t breathe. Everything in front of my eyes was blurred, and tears streamed down my face. I recalled that not long after my labor, he handed me a medical examination report, claiming that he could no longer sleep with me. I believed in that report so firmly that I never thought of any other possibilities. Because I loved him, I was willing to endure loneliness. Over the years, considering that he was busy with work, I raised our child alone and took care of our parents. I devoted everything to this family and ended up becoming a worn-out woman, while my husband was hooking up with the other woman outside and even lied to me for 40 years. What kind of woman deserved for him to do all this? If he loved her so much, why did he marry me? Why didn’t he divorce me and be with that woman? I was confused, and my mind was in turmoil. I didn’t know what to do. After resolving the car crash in a daze, I drove back home. After I got home and coaxed Jason to sleep, I went to Timothy’s study while no one else was at home. While rummaging through his drawers, I found an old yellowed photo in a black diary. It was a graduation photo. I looked at the photo and quickly found Timothy, who was handsome in his youth and extremely dazzling in the crowd. It was hard not to be impressed by him. Timothy was smiling in the photo, and I had never seen him smile like that before. There stood a radiant and lovely girl next to him. They tightly held their hands like a perfect match. My heart started to wrench again. I took a deep breath and silently put the photo back. Although I was not sure whether this girl was the one in the car, it was a fact that my husband cheated on me. I pulled myself together, took out my cell phone, and called Timothy’s old classmate. After a few pleasantries, I pretended to be casual and asked, “I heard from Timothy that you guys just had a gathering a while ago. Didn’t your class belle attend it?” As I finished speaking, the person on the phone was stunned for a moment. “Class belle? Oh, you mean Wendy Lopez? She did.” I continued, “No wonder Timothy mentioned her to me and talked about the past between them.” Soon the person on the phone was surprised and asked, “He told you that Wendy is his first love?” ***** After hanging up the phone, I sat in the chair in a daze. It turned out that the girl was Timothy’s first love. Well, I recalled that Timothy’s mother, Selena Watson, mentioned it once when she was alive. Timothy had dated a girl when he was in college, but they broke up for unknown reasons. I was lost in thought when the door of the study was suddenly pushed open. Timothy shouted in a cold voice, “Betty, who allowed you to touch my things?”
I sat there calmly, looking at him lightly. Timothy strode over and pushed me away. He was so violent that he pushed me to the ground. My forehead hit the bookcase, and I frowned in pain. Timothy didn’t care whether I was injured or not. He sorted out his drawers and said without turning his head, “How many times have I told you not to touch my things? Did you become deaf as you grew old?” His words are always so hurtful. I didn’t care about it before, thinking he was just cold and sharp-tongued. But after watching the dashcam today, I didn’t think so. It turned out that this cold man could also be gentle and considerate, but not to me. My heart wrenched, and I thought I would cry, but I shed no tears. “You’re right. I’m old and deaf, and now I’m blind too.” I was so blind that I couldn’t tell what kind of person the husband I had spent decades with was. Hearing this, Timothy finally couldn’t help but look back at me. He said with displeasure, “What’s wrong with you?” I was about to speak when I suddenly heard Jason crying outside. I stood up and walked out, while Timothy said indifferently, “It’s about dinner time. You should make dinner.” Somehow, I suddenly remembered what I had heard the most in recent years. “Betty, you married a capable and good man.” “Betty, don’t go to work anymore. A woman should stay at home to take care of her husband and child.” “Betty, you are really good at cooking. From now on, you are in charge of the kitchen.” “Betty, remember to clean the house after doing the dishes.” “Betty, the baby is crying bitterly. Come over and feed the baby after you finish cleaning up.” “Betty, the kid’s clothes are torn. It costs a lot to buy them new clothes. Just mend them yourself.” “Betty, my mom’s legs are aching. Take her to the hospital.” Gradually, my child also got married and started his own careers. “Mom, I just got married. Please don’t make things difficult for my wife.” “Mom, your cooking is getting worse and worse, and you can’t even mop the floor clean. We might as well hire a housekeeper.” “Mom, we are too busy at work. Please pick up the kids from now on.” “Mom, I’ve told you so many times not to let the kids use cell phones. It did harm to their eyes.” Before long, my child’s child also gradually grew up. “Grandma, I can’t sleep. Please tell me a story.” “Grandma, I want to go out and play. Carry me on your back.” “Grandma, I want to play the horse-riding game. Please be my horse.” Unconsciously, I grew old and became the object of dislike. “Betty, can you stop spending money recklessly? Do you really need to spend so much money on groceries?” “If you feel unwell, go to the hospital by yourself. Don’t you have legs?” “Don’t act like you have a hard life every day. I’ve supported the family for most of my life and never let you work a single day. Cooking won’t kill you.” “You don’t need new clothes at your age. Go throw the garbage.” These voices flashed through my mind. As a woman, I really shouldn’t think too much. As I thought about the past, I found my efforts worthless. My husband, my son, my husband’s mother, my son’s wife, and even my grandson, who needed me all the time—to all of them, I was not even worth as much as a nanny, who could at least get paid. As soon as I walked outside, my son William Watson and his wife Monica Watson came back. As soon as they got in, they heard Jason crying, and Monica ran into the bedroom anxiously. William complained with a gloomy face, “Mom, didn’t you hear Jason crying? If we hadn’t come back, were you going to let him cry all the time?” I didn’t say anything. At that time, Monica came out with Jason in her arms and said in displeasure, “Betty, Jason is hungry. Hurry up and cook. We are all exhausted all day, and we can’t even have dinner when we get home.” William agreed casually, “I should have agreed to go to Wendy’s place for dinner.”
I felt like something inside me suddenly collapsed. I looked at William in surprise. William seemed to realize that he had made a slip of the tongue, and he changed the subject. “We are hungry. Hurry up and go to the kitchen to cook.” I stared at William and asked calmly, “What did you just say?” William looked impatient and replied, “I told you to cook. You’re so annoying to keep asking me.” “Who is Wendy you are talking about?” I asked again. William felt a little guilty and said, “You heard wrongly. I didn’t say that.” I pressed further. “Is it Wendy Lopez, your father’s first love? You’ve known about her for a long time and that she has been in contact with your father, so you deliberately hid it from me.” William opened his eyes wide, obviously not expecting me to say it directly. “Mom, can you please stop thinking nonsense? Wendy was my dad’s college classmate. It’s normal for them to keep in touch. You are not a teenage girl anymore. Why do you care about this?” William blamed me for making a fuss. After that, he added, “Wendy is different from you. As the director of the gynecology department in a hospital, she has a proper job, unlike you, who stays at home to take care of the child and cooks every day. You should go out more often when you have nothing to do. Don’t be suspicious all the time. It will spoil your brain.” I looked at William, whom I had carried for 10 months and risked my life to give birth to. Now, he was belittling me because of another woman. In his eyes, I was hateful. Because I made unwarranted assumptions about Wendy, I was unforgivable. But he didn’t know that I, the housewife who he thought knew nothing other than cooking, was once a graduate of a prestigious university and was supposed to have a wonderful life. It was his father and he who made me a housewife. My eyes felt sore, and I shed tears. I said with a sense of speechlessness, “Since you like that woman so much, you may be her family from now on.” William looked at me as if I were a lunatic. At that moment, in his eyes, I was not his mother, but some crazy woman. The door to the study flew open. Timothy scolded in a deep voice, “Betty, what’s gotten into you? William and Monica are already tired enough after a day’s work. You didn’t cook and even made such a fuss! Why?” I looked at him with a mocking look. “You don’t know why?” Timothy frowned, “What do you want to say?” I looked at him and said indifferently, “I want to divorce you.” A strange look flashed through Timothy’s eyes. He sneered, “There’s a limit to how much nonsense I can take. At your age, aren’t you afraid of being laughed at? If you don’t want to cook, just say so.” I was a little impatient. “Are you deaf? I said I want to divorce you!”
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