Part 1My Husband Gave Our Lost Daughter's Name to His Illegitimate Daughter

After being apart from my husband for a full year, I ran into one of his coworkers at the mall.

She smiled and greeted me. "Congratulations on your second daughter."

I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. I froze on the spot.

She didn't notice my expression and kept going.

"I'll definitely be at the baby's baptism this weekend."

As she spoke, she waved a gold-edged red invitation.

"The design is so thoughtful. Really beautiful."

I forced a smile and calmly took the invitation from her hand.

In the father column, I saw my husband Marco Falcone's name.

In the mother column, Gianna De Luca.

I didn't know this woman.

I quietly memorized the banquet hall address, then handed the invitation back.

"Thank you. See you this weekend."

That weekend, I went to the address on the invitation.

At the lively venue, a pretty woman stood at the entrance holding a hundred-day-old baby girl, greeting guests.

She smiled at me. "You must be my husband's coworker? His office really has so many beauties. Come sit inside."

...

A storm surged inside me. I looked at the baby girl in her arms. Fair-skinned.

There was a trace of Marco in her features.

I asked flatly, "Where's Marco?"

I didn't see him anywhere.

But I did see several familiar faces from Marco's family.

I'd only met Marco's relatives once, at our wedding seven years ago.

But I have a good memory. I remembered a few distinctive elder relatives.

I never imagined Marco would be this brazen—publicly acknowledging an illegitimate daughter in front of relatives.

"Marco went to pick up his parents. He'll be back soon."

My heart lurched again, like a hole had been torn through it, the pain suffocating.

Two days ago, Marco's parents told me they'd signed up for a senior tour group.

They'd be traveling for half a month.

I was worried their pension wouldn't be enough, so I transferred 8,000 to Marco's mother as a travel fund.

Now I understood. The so-called tour group was just a cover. They never left.

In recent years, the two elders had been in poor health, on medication year-round, and had never traveled.

When they said they wanted to get away, I supported it.

All these years, I'd treated them like my own parents.

In public and in private, they praised me as a virtuous, filial, rare good daughter-in-law.

I never imagined they were fooling me just like Marco.

Gianna didn't notice the emotions churning behind my eyes.

She led me to the section where Marco's coworkers sat.

As soon as I got close, a middle-aged man said enviously to Gianna.

"I'm so jealous of him. Not only is his wife beautiful, his daughter is even more beautiful."

A few men and women chimed in one after another.

"Gianna, you really bet right. When you quit your job to be a homemaker, I was a little worried."

"Six years later, you and Marco are still this happy. Now you have a love child. I'm so happy for you."

My hand curled into a fist. My nails dug into my palm.

So my marriage to Marco was only seven years.

And he'd been cheating with Gianna for over six years.

Even more absurd—in those long seven years, I'd known nothing.

Even this morning, he'd sent me his usual [Good morning.]

And a line: Darling, I miss you again.

For seven years, we'd had a good marriage.

He never lost his temper with me. Base salary 20,000, he kept only 1,000 for himself, gave me the remaining 19,000 every month. Commission separate.

Every year's year-end bonus went to buying me gold bracelets.

Just from the gold jewelry at home, I'd accumulated quite a bit.

A year ago, he discussed with me that an out-of-town posting would raise his monthly salary by 5,000.

We had to plan for our son's future.

College, marriage, a house—all would cost money.

He wanted to earn more, save for our son.

After careful thought, I agreed to his posting in a city a thousand miles away.

Now I realized—he was like the night, making it impossible for me to see him clearly.