A Bastard for New Year's Gift

For three months, I had been away on a business trip, counting down the days until I could finally return home. I had missed my family dearly, especially my little girl. When I finally secured a ticket home for the New Year, excitement bubbled in my chest and I could barely wait to see their surprised faces.

On the video call, my husband, Simon, sighed regretfully. "Elsa, why couldn't you get a ticket? My parents and our daughter have all been waiting for you to come home!"

His words stung more than they should have. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, but beneath it, something felt off—too casual, too rehearsed. Ignoring the pang in my heart, I played my part, feigning frustration. "I know, Simon. I tried, but the trains were packed. I'll make it up to you all."

As soon as the call ended, I wiped away a tear, but it wasn't one of sadness. It was anticipation. They didn't know I had secured a ticket and would be home tonight. The thought of their astonished, joyful reactions made me laugh out loud. Little did I know that in just a few hours, I'd be flipping over the whole dinner table in anger.

***

After hanging up the phone, I quickly changed my expression, replacing the weariness with excitement. Grabbing the carefully wrapped gifts I had prepared for my family, I headed toward home with hurried steps. The cold wind nipped at my face, but it did nothing to dampen my spirits. I imagined the scene over and over—my husband and daughter rushing toward me, arms outstretched, their faces lighting up in delight.

As I approached our house, the familiar warmth of home seemed so close I could almost touch it. Pulling out my key, I paused for a second, savoring the moment. I could already hear lively chatter and laughter filtering through the door.

But in the next second, my world tilted.

Through the slightly ajar door, I saw Simon sitting on the sofa, his arm draped casually but intimately around a woman with heavily painted features. She leaned into him, giggling softly as his hand slid up her waist in a manner far too familiar.

My hands tightened on the gifts until the paper crinkled loudly. Blood rushed to my ears and my breath caught in my throat. The warmth I had imagined was replaced by a cold, hollow ache.

For a moment, I just stood there, dumbfounded, unable to process what I was seeing. Then fury ignited inside me like a wildfire. I pushed the door open, my voice trembling with rage. "Simon, what are you doing behind my back?"

Simon jolted upright, startled by my sudden appearance. His arm fell away from the woman, who scrambled to her feet, her face painted with guilt. "Elsa, y-you said you weren't coming home for the New Year!"

I stared at him, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. "And that makes this okay?"

The woman quickly tried to explain, her voice high-pitched and shaky. "Elsa, don't misunderstand! I consider Simon my brother. It's not what you think."

"Simon! You're cheating on me?!" I couldn't contain my anger anymore. I hurled the gifts in my hands toward them, the packages landing with dull thuds on the floor.

Simon stepped forward, shielding the woman behind him as if she were something precious. "Honey, calm down. She's my childhood friend. You've scared her."

Before I could respond, Evelyn, my mother-in-law, appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. Her sharp eyes took in the scene and her face twisted in displeasure. "Elsa, are you trying to tear the roof off as soon as you get back?! This is Raya, Simon's friend since he was a boy. What the hell do you think? Apologize to them, now!"

I stared at her, incredulous. Apologize? Apologize for what—walking in on my husband caressing another woman?

Raya cowered behind Simon, her eyes glistening with crocodile tears. "Elsa, I just came over to spend the New Year with everyone. You wouldn't mind, right?"

The way Simon's hand still rested protectively on her waist sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through me. My lips curled into a bitter sneer. "Spend the New Year? Don't you have your own family? Or is your own family so... inadequate that you have to crash ours?"

At my words, Raya's face turned pale and tears spilled down her cheeks. She played her role perfectly—an innocent victim caught in my supposed irrational outburst.

Simon's face darkened and he stormed toward me. Without warning, he shoved me backward. "Elsa, you've gone too far! She's nothing like that. Stop stirring up trouble!"

I stumbled, barely catching myself on the wall. My pulse roared in my ears and a sense of betrayal clawed at my chest.

Evelyn took the opportunity to chime in, her voice dripping with disdain. "How dare you ruin everyone's mood the moment you arrive?! You accuse my son of cheating? Who knows what you've been up to these past three months during your so-called business trip? Maybe you've been sleeping with your clients! You're no saint, yet you dare slander my son?"

"You—!" My voice caught in my throat, rage choking me. But then something else caught my eye—golden fur clinging to Evelyn's apron.

My head buzzed and dread settled in my gut like lead. I pushed past them, ignoring their protests as I made a beeline for the kitchen. The sight that greeted me made my vision blur with horror.

There, on the cutting board, lay traces of fresh blood. The trash bin beside it was stuffed with golden dog fur. My stomach churned violently and a sickening realization dawned on me.

"Did you cook my dog?!" I roared, my voice breaking with anguish.

Evelyn crossed her arms, unimpressed by my outburst. "It's just an animal. So what if we cooked it? Why are you making such a big fuss?"

My mind reeled, a tidal wave of grief and fury threatening to drown me. Arlo wasn't just a pet—he was the last connection I had to my late mother. He had been her companion before she passed away and I had cherished him for the memories he carried. And now... he was gone.

Tears blurred my vision and I clenched my fists until my nails dug painfully into my palms. "How could you..." My voice trembled, thick with grief. "He was all I had left of my mom."

Evelyn's expression didn't change, her eyes cold and dismissive. "Enough with the dramatics, Elsa. It's just a dog."