Maybe two years ago, when I had just discovered the truth, I might have felt a bit of satisfaction seeing the person who destroyed my family get her comeuppance. But now, with my heart completely at peace, I regarded her words as nothing more than trivial street gossip. I took a sip of my warm tea. The saying, “What goes around comes around,” was true. Daniel was a greedy transactional person who treated women as pawns for his own benefit.
The man who abandoned his devoted wife for a mistress was the same man who could ruthlessly discard that mistress the moment she became a liability. Chloe had chosen the path of living off a married man’s money. And in the end, she was tripped up by her own dependency. Their fight now was just a selfish game of shifting blame. Who was right? Who was wrong? Who was the victim? And who was the fraud?
None of it had anything to do with my life anymore. I had no intention of replying, scolding, or lecturing. The most painful punishment for traitors is not curses, but indifference. To treat them as strangers, not even worth a thought. I pressed the delete button, erasing the message from my phone forever. And I immediately added the unfamiliar number to my block list.
I put my phone down on the desk, tucked Lily’s blanket back in, and stretched. Outside, the cold winter wind howled, but inside the small room, it was perfectly warm. I had completely cleansed those awful people from my mind. Life is short. I have no time to spare watching the miserable endings of others. My only mission was to live the rest of my life wonderfully for myself. Time truly flies. Two years had passed since I walked out of the courthouse with my divorce papers.
This spring brought me a great joy. Thanks to my frugal living and performance bonuses, I was finally able to buy a small, sunny condo near my daughter’s preschool.
The two-bedroom home was painted a bright cream color. And on the balcony, I placed a few pots of my favorite moss roses.
This home was entirely in my name, a secure sanctuary I had built for me and my daughter with my own two hands.
Lily was now two years old, running around the house and learning to speak in babbling sentences. My parents would take the bus up to see their granddaughter whenever they had time, their hands full of vegetables and meat from their small farm.
The small apartment was always filled with laughter.
At 3:00 p.m. sharp on a Sunday afternoon, the doorbell rang. I wiped my hands on a towel and opened the door.
Standing there was Daniel holding a wooden toy box. For two years, he had consistently come to see our daughter once a week as agreed.
Time seemed to leave different marks on people. While I had gained some healthy weight and my complexion had improved, Daniel had aged noticeably.
There were streaks of gray at his temples, and his attire was no longer the neatly ironed shirts and suits of the past, but a faded, worn-out jacket. I had heard that due to his past scandals, his career wasn’t going well.
I opened the door wide and politely invited him in.
“Come in. Lily’s playing with her blocks in the living room.”
Daniel entered meekly, wiping his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside. He walked over to Lily, crouched down on the floor, and took out the new toys he had brought.
Lily, not at all shy, happily took the wooden blocks and started building a house. Daniel watched his daughter with a gaze full of deep regret.
He turned to me as I was pouring him a glass of water and said hesitantly, “Jennifer, your new place is really nice. Thank you so much for the past two years. After all the terrible things I did, you could have stopped me from seeing Lily. You could have taught her to hate me, but you didn’t. You let me keep seeing her. I’m so grateful for your generosity.”
I placed the glass of water on the table and replied calmly.
“It’s not because I’m generous. I just did what was right for my child to have a normal upbringing. The child is innocent. She has the right to be loved by both her father and mother. I didn’t want her to learn hatred because of adult mistakes. As long as you pay your child support on time and still love your daughter, I will respect that right. But what was between us ended a long time ago.”
Daniel lowered his head and said nothing more. He played with his daughter for about an hour and then left looking desolate.
As his figure disappeared behind the elevator doors, I quietly closed and locked my door. Returning to the living room, I swept Lily into my arms.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek with her small lips. The warm afternoon sun of early spring streamed through the balcony window, illuminating the room.
I held my daughter and looked out at the bustling streetscape below. Remembering the difficult days and the tears of the past, a smile of contentment spread across my face.
I had realized that a happy family does not necessarily require the presence of a husband. Happiness was in the courage to decisively cut off the things that cause pain and in the ability to stand on one’s own two feet and take responsibility for one’s own life.
The past half of my life felt like a long dream. Now I was awake and I was living days that were free, proud, and more peaceful than…
If you came here from Facebook because of this story, please go back to the Facebook post, tap Like, and comment exactly “Respect” to support the storyteller. That small action means a lot and gives the writer more motivation to keep bringing you stories like this.
