Chapter 3

Vivian shook her head.

"My husband said he was afraid the family would be saddened by seeing her things, so he got rid of everything that belonged to his sister. He didn't keep even a single photo."

"By the way, I still haven't asked your name."

I paused, then gave a fake name.

"Call me Sally."

Vivian laughed.

"What a coincidence. Michael's sister seemed to have an alias too. It was Sally."

I lowered my head and did not answer.

Vivian chattered on the whole way.

"Thank goodness my husband had vision and sent his sister to serve the country. My two children can enjoy Federal Gold Star Family benefits for medical care, school, everything."

"When my son was born, the government even issued a special compensation payment."

Gold Star benefits had limited slots.

No wonder Michael had always insisted we remain childfree. It turned out he was afraid the children I gave birth to would take away his illegitimate children's share.

A bitter taste rose in my throat. I did not know what to say, so I asked casually,

"When was your son born?"

"November eleventh. The day I had my little boy, Michael booked the most expensive private hospital in Manhattan, with VIP delivery care the entire time."

My head snapped up, and my pupils shrank.

That was the day my father died.

That day, the doctor said that if my father had been brought to the hospital just one hour earlier, he could have been saved.

But Michael, who had promised to help me take care of my parents, could not be reached no matter how many times I called.

At my father's funeral, Michael slapped himself across the face while sobbing and apologizing to me.

I thought it was genuine guilt, so I forced down every doubt in my heart.

Who could have imagined that he had been at another hospital that day, watching his illegitimate son be born?

As the truth was laid out before me piece by piece, anger nearly burned straight through me.

Vivian was still speaking.

"It's just that the two children are a little far apart in age. More than six years. They fight all the time."

At that moment, I could already be certain that when Michael married me, he had already been with Vivian.

Vivian raised her hand and pointed ahead. "We're here. This is my home."

Unlike our ordinary apartment, they lived in a penthouse near Central Park.

The place was decorated so warmly. Fresh lilies sat on the dining table, and family photos of the four of them hung on the walls.

Every sharp corner of the furniture had been carefully wrapped with soft padding.

I forced a smile. "Your home is so clean and warm."

"Oh, Michael did all the decorating. He always says a home should feel like a home."

Hearing that, another wave of bitterness surged through me.

When Michael was with me, he never touched housework.

He threw clothes and socks everywhere and was too lazy even to take out the trash.

If something at home broke, he would leave it there and wait for me to come back and fix it.

Every time I took family leave, it became my deep-cleaning day.

Thinking about it now, I was truly ridiculous. Cleaning the house, earning money to support the family, helping take care of his mother...

All my efforts had become the perfect warm backdrop for my husband's affair.

I forced down the pain in my heart and asked as if unintentionally,

"Your family seems very well-off. Money and status, and such a large apartment. Did you buy it yourself?"

Vivian smiled.

"My husband bought it."

"I was lucky. I had just come to New York from a small town when I met Michael."

"The flower shop downstairs was also opened for me with money he provided six years ago."

Michael came from a poor family.

When we got married, even the home we lived in was rented with my salary.

At that time, he had not yet established himself in New York and had hardly any money at all.

And now that he had achieved success and fame, he spent all his money on his other family.

Just then, the door clicked open from outside.

It was Vivian's father.

His gaze as he looked me over was full of scrutiny and caution.

"Who is this?"

Vivian introduced me warmly. "Dad, this is someone who came to get important materials from Michael."

The old man nodded indifferently.

"Michael is like my own son. The country values him, and I feel proud too. Tonight I'll cook myself and make something nice for you all."

Just then, a phone began to ring. Vivian casually put it on speaker.

I heard Michael's voice clearly.

"Honey, I may not get back until after midnight tonight."

"I know you've been craving those chocolates lately, so I made a special trip to buy your favorite handmade ones."

"Sorry to make you wait so long. Be good."