His Secret Family，The "Tainted" Wife's Perfect Vengeance

I've been in a long-distance relationship for five years. Without telling him, I took a flight that lasted over ten hours and landed in his city, wanting to surprise him.

As soon as my phone connected to the local network, I saw a post from the city's feed.

The title was: [What's the one thing you did that you never regretted?]

The comment with the most interactions read:

[I got him drunk on graduation day and slept with him. Even though he promised his girlfriend he'd never see me again, he always softens when I cry. Now our child is 4 years old, and I'm already pregnant with our second.]

Below were tons of follow-up questions. Someone directly asked [So you're the other woman?]

Her reply was unapologetic: [The one who isn't loved is the other woman. Besides, that woman was kidnapped and molested before—she's dirty and doesn't deserve him at all.]

My fingers started trembling uncontrollably. This matched my experience perfectly.

To calm my heart that was about to jump out of my chest, I walked into a convenience store to buy water.

The moment I looked up at the checkout, my blood froze.

Standing by the register was Betty Moore—the same woman who was in that hotel bed with Richard Thompson on graduation night.

My feet felt nailed to the ground as I watched her walk out of the store with a smile.

The next second, she threw herself into the arms of a man across the street and kissed him sweetly.

That man was my husband Richard—the one I'd gotten a marriage certificate with, been in a long-distance relationship with for five years, who kept saying he loved me.

Chapter 1

The scene before me made my whole body shake uncontrollably.

Half an hour ago, he'd sent me a message:

[Honey, work has been so busy lately. I can't make it back for our fifth wedding anniversary. I'll definitely bring you a gift to make up for it when I get back.]

He was indeed busy—busy giving another woman a complete family in another city thousands of miles away.

In the text box, I'd been drafting "Honey, I came to surprise you" the whole way here. Now my fingers were ice cold as I silently pressed delete.

Watching Richard bend down to lift Betty into the passenger seat, I almost instinctively hailed a taxi and followed them.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them kissing without a care in the world just now, and seven years ago when I kicked open that hotel room door to find them naked in each other's arms.

That day was our college graduation party. Richard never came home that night.

I tracked his phone to the hotel and walked in on that scene.

When he woke up and saw everything, he immediately fell to his knees crying, saying he was drunk and didn't know what happened, that if I didn't forgive him, he'd jump from the 23rd floor.

Back then I loved him deeply and couldn't let go of our years together.

And afterward, he really didn't see Betty again. He was even better to me, protecting me completely. So I softened and forgave him.

I never imagined they'd never actually cut contact, and even had a four-year-old child together.

My phone buzzed. Betty had just updated her Twitter post, location tagged at the amusement park ahead.

[My boyfriend gets jealous of the kids. Today he insisted on a date with just the two of us. He said he's taking me to the amusement park because his wife was abandoned at one as a child, so they never go. But I think his wife must have been a bad person even as a kid—what kind of parents would abandon their child!]

Each line was like a poisoned needle, stabbing densely into my heart.

These scars buried deepest in my heart—I'd only told Richard about them.

I thought he felt sorry for me, carefully protecting my painful past. I never thought my wounds would become his talking points to charm Betty, become their joke at my expense.

The taxi stopped at the amusement park entrance. I followed them out and bought a ticket, my whole body shaking—not from fear, but from extreme anger and heartbreak.

That memory of being abandoned, along with Richard, should have been cut off long ago.

I followed behind them like an outsider, watching them hold hands through all the couple photo spots, take intimate pictures, share a coffee, embrace and kiss when the Ferris wheel reached its highest point.

These things Richard had never done with me.

I watched it all almost masochistically, just wanting to see clearly what exactly I'd been holding onto these five years of long-distance.

A dull ache came from my abdomen, but compared to the churning pain in my heart, this physical discomfort wasn't worth mentioning.

They stopped in front of the carousel.

Richard looked down at Betty, his eyes overflowing with tenderness.

"When I was young, I always wanted to bring the person I love to an amusement park, try every ride. I can't believe it's finally happening today."

Betty buried herself in his arms, playfully shaking his arm.

"Richard, now that I've helped you fulfill your dream, do I get a reward?"

Richard smiled and lifted her chin, leaning down for a kiss, his tone suggestive and indulgent.

"Betty, before we go back, how about I release all my energy on you?"

Tears completely blurred my vision.

No wonder every time he rarely came home, nine times out of ten he'd refuse my advances, always saying his work was too exhausting.

It wasn't that he was too tired—his tenderness and energy had long been given entirely to Betty.

He knew how much I wanted a child, how much I longed for a complete family.

They sat on the carousel, laughing loudly in the wind.

And I stood there as childhood fear, anxiety, and the pain of abandonment once again seized my heart.

When I was five, my mother brought me to an amusement park, said she was going to buy me cotton candy, and never came back.

I stood alone in front of the carousel from daytime until dawn, until a patrolling security guard found me and took me to the police station.

Unable to find my parents, I was sent to an orphanage and never had a home again.

Five years ago, Richard knelt before me on one knee, holding my hand and saying that wherever he was would be my home.

Five years later today, he personally shattered the home I'd barely managed to piece together.

Tears covered my face. I clenched my fists, nails digging deep into my palms, wanting to rush up and ask if there was even a single moment in these five years when he was genuine with me.

But by the time I'd calmed my breathing and looked up, they were long gone.

My phone rang again. Richard had sent several photos of jewelry, asking which one I liked, saying it was my fifth anniversary gift.

Following the store logo visible in the photos, I quickly found the mall's location.

Just as I reached the jewelry store entrance, I heard Betty's coquettish voice.

"Richard, this one's too old-fashioned. I don't like it."

She casually tossed the sapphire blue gift box in her hand to Richard.

At the same second, my phone received his message: [Honey, your gift—do you like it?]

For the first time, I didn't reply to his message instantly.

He frowned slightly but was quickly pulled by Betty into the high-end baby goods store next door.

Through the glass, I watched them with faces full of parental joy and anticipation, touching baby cribs together, discussing the gender of their second child. My heart was left with nothing but desolate emptiness.

"Richard, do you think it'll be a boy or girl this time? What color baby things should we buy?"

"Boy or girl, I love them both, as long as you're the one having them. Buy whatever you like—color and price don't matter."

The exact same question—I'd once carefully asked him too.

Back when I'd just emerged from the shadow of being kidnapped, I'd asked him hopefully whether we'd have a boy or girl in the future.

He'd just held me tightly then, silent.

I thought at the time he felt sorry for me because I'd injured my uterus saving him, making pregnancy difficult, afraid of touching on my painful subject.

Now I understand—he didn't feel sorry for me. He just already had another woman bearing his children.

They shopped at the mall all afternoon. Richard bought countless things for Betty and their children, while my phone rang all afternoon with photos of "gifts" Betty had rejected.

I used to be so touched by his "thoughtfulness." Now I know those seemingly thoughtful gifts were just trash Betty didn't want.

Finally, they drove to a nearby kindergarten and picked up a little boy whose features were almost identical to Richard's.

Betty hugged Richard's arm, swaying playfully.

"Richard, when are you going to come clean with Diana? I don't want our children hidden forever, and we're about to have our second child. Besides, didn't you already trick her into signing the divorce papers?"

Divorce papers?

All the blood in my body rushed to my head. I couldn't hold back anymore and walked out from behind the tree, my voice shaking but each word clear.

"Richard, what does she mean by that?"