The harsh August sun shone down through the leaves of the banyan tree, creating shimmering streaks of light on the sidewalk. The car stopped in front of an old, moss-covered bungalow. She got out, feeling both pity and excitement. Hearing that Uncle Tu had fallen and broken his leg, and had been bedridden for several weeks, she was very worried. Uncle Tu used to be a housekeeper, taking care of her mother in law for six years. The affection between her and Uncle had gone beyond the employer-employee relationship, becoming a sincere bond.

The heavy wooden gate opened, the space inside was strangely quiet. She stepped in, the sound of slippers clacking on the old tiled floor echoed. Just as she was about to call out, she suddenly stopped. From the inner room, a clear giggle rang out. She saw Uncle Tu sitting on a bed against the wall, his wrinkled face showing signs of fatigue but his eyes sparkling with joy. In front of him was a small, chubby boy, busily arranging colorful wooden blocks. The boy turned around, his big, round, black eyes looking straight at her. A cold current ran down her spine. There was something so familiar about that boy, it was creepy.

Not a vague resemblance, but specific, clear features. Those eyes, that nose, that mouth, and that mischievous, mischievous look. She saw the image of her husband, of her two children in every line on the boy’s face. She took a step back, her heart pounding, a feeling of confusion rising. She tried to calm down, took a deep breath, and then stepped closer. “Uncle Tu, are you okay? Did you hurt a lot when you fell?”, her voice trembled. Uncle Tu saw her and was happy, “Oh, you’re here. I’m much better, but my leg still hurts so I can’t walk yet. Thank you for coming.”

She sat down on the plastic chair opposite, her eyes not leaving the boy. “Uncle, who is this?” Uncle Tu was a little embarrassed, then smiled awkwardly: “Ah, this is my grandchild. My daughter sent him here to look after.” She looked straight into his eyes, “My grandchild? My daughter is over forty years old, how could…” Uncle Tu immediately interrupted, “Well… she asked to adopt a child.” That sentence made her doubt even greater. “An adopted child, why does he look exactly like your husband, and your two children?” Uncle Tu avoided him, his eyes restless.

“Uncle Tu, I believe you. If you don’t tell the truth, I will take the boy’s hair and have it tested with my husband’s hair for DNA. The results will definitely tell me the truth,” her voice became sharp, her initial calmness had disappeared, replaced by coldness and decisiveness. Uncle Tu’s face turned pale, her lips pressed tightly together. She shook her head slightly, “Please don’t do that. It’s probably… just a coincidence.” The more she tried to hide it, the more she revealed her panic and confusion. The boy looked up at her, his big, round eyes sparkling, as if he could sense the tension. “Mom told me to be good, to listen to grandma,” the boy said, his voice immature.

The two words “mother said” were like a knife stabbing into her heart. She stood up abruptly, unable to bear this ambiguity any longer. She bent down, hugged the little boy, feeling the softness and warmth of his small body. All her maternal senses told her that this child was her husband’s flesh and blood. She put the boy down, then walked out, took out her phone. Uncle Tu watched, his eyes full of pleading, but she couldn’t stop. Her husband’s phone number appeared, she took a deep breath and dialed.

“Where are you?”, her voice was cold, “I’m at Uncle Tu’s house. Do you have any secrets?”. The other end of the line was silent for a moment, then her husband’s voice trembled: “You… what’s wrong with you?”. “You don’t need to beat around the bush. The baby here looks exactly like you. If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll do a test. And if the results are confirmed, you will never be forgiven.” She spoke firmly, leaving no way out. “Go home, I’ll be right back. Please. Go home first.” His voice was full of pleading. She hung up, without saying another word.

When she got home, he was already waiting at the door. He walked over and hugged her. She pulled away, “Let me go. Tell me, what are you hiding from me?” He bowed his head, his hands clenched. He took her into the house and pulled her down to sit on the chair. His face was pale, his eyes filled with tears. “I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice broken. She looked at him, not saying a word, just waiting. His tears rolled down his cheeks. “Five years ago, on a business trip, I… accidentally got a girl pregnant.”

Hearing that, she felt like everything around her was collapsing. She fainted, a feeling of utter emptiness. He continued his story, his voice full of remorse and regret. “After she gave birth, she left the child to me, then went to work abroad. I couldn’t abandon the child. I gave the child to Uncle Tu to take care of and give him money every month.” She burst into tears. It turned out that all this time, her husband had another life, another child, another secret. His explanations all disappeared in her sobs.

She painfully realized that the reason he was promoted but brought home less salary than before was not because he had to spend more on work, but because he had to provide for that illegitimate child. She looked at him, the gentle, kind man she had trusted completely for sixteen years, now became a liar. He knelt down, hugging her legs. “Baby, I beg you. Please forgive me. Please don’t reveal this. My career, our honor, will go up in smoke.”

She pushed him away, covering her face with both hands and crying. Thousands of questions swirled in her mind. Why? Why did he do that? Was the happiness of this family, her love, not enough for him to cherish? He continued to plead, “I know I was wrong. I was so wrong. But I can’t abandon our child. Honey, let’s raise him together, okay?”. She listened to him, the pain in her heart grew even greater.

Tears kept falling from her eyes. She looked in the mirror and saw a woman with swollen eyes and a face wrinkled with pain. She realized that she was no longer the proud woman who was proud of her husband like before. She was just a betrayed wife, a woman facing an unbearable truth. She stood up, walked into the room, and slammed the door. He stood outside, knocked on the door, and called her name, but she could not answer.

She sat on the bed, everything in the familiar room suddenly became strange. She wondered, the man who had been lying beside her for sixteen years, the man who had shared all her joys and sorrows, all her difficulties, was he really that person? Or was he just a false image he had created? She felt deceived, taken advantage of. Not only was it his betrayal, but also the deception of the whole life she had built.

The truth was revealed like a tidal wave, sweeping away everything she believed in. Her life was now a mess, with no way out. Hatred rose up, filling her heart. Hatred for him for betraying her, for lying to her. Hatred for him for causing tragedy, then forcing her to bear the consequences. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to face her two children. She didn’t know how to face her own future.

In her despair, she thought of divorce. But then, she looked at the family photos on the table. The bright smiles of her two children, the happy eyes of her husband and herself. She did not want to destroy her children’s happiness. She did not want them to suffer the pain of their parents’ separation. But if she continued, could she live with a husband who had betrayed her? Could she accept his child?

She lay down, curled up. Her tears had dried up, leaving only emptiness and pain. She felt like she was sinking into a bottomless pit. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, no idea what she would do to get through this crisis. All she knew was that her life, what she had believed in, was no longer the same. All that remained was a jumble of lies and pain.