While I was still lost in thought, the doorbell rang. I went to open it and found Dani standing there. She was dressed like some wannabe cutesy influencer.

I could see the disdain in her eyes. She never hid how much she looked down on me.

“Helen, your precious daughter is here.”

“Ari, can you wash my clothes? I just got back from school,” Dani said as she waltzed into the living room. Outside the door sat her enormous white suitcase.

She would always save up a whole month’s worth of laundry, even her underwear, and dump it all here for me to deal with.

I let out a quiet scoff. I grabbed her suitcase and dragged it to the balcony.

The moment I opened it, an awful stench hit me. Fighting the urge to gag, I forced myself to dump her clothes into the washing machine piece by piece.

From the kitchen, I could hear Helen and Dani chatting away. Their voices were clear as day.

“Mom, these mushrooms smell amazing!”

Helen chuckled. “Of course! These are termite mushrooms, perfect for chicken broth. They’re incredibly nourishing.”

In front of the family, Dani always kept up her sweet, innocent act.

“Well, I’m definitely having extra, then.”

Helen laughed. “Don’t worry, you greedy little kitten, there’s plenty for you. Now go call your brother and see when he’ll be back.”

I snorted and thought. “Go ahead, eat up. Eat as much as you want.”

I crouched down, closed the suitcase, and pushed it into a corner of the balcony. Then, I turned to look outside.

Our apartment was right by the entrance of the complex. It was on the seventh floor, which was just the right spot for a clear view.

Sure enough, I saw Josh walking in while dragging a suitcase behind him. He was linking arms with a younger woman.

Quietly, I pulled out my phone, zoomed in, and snapped a few pictures.

When did I find out?

Funny enough, I had Helen to thank for that. Her frequent trips with chicken broth packed in thermoses were what tipped me off. My father-in-law passed away years ago. I naively thought Helen had found herself a new lover.

It was about three months ago when I accidentally spotted her carrying the thermos toward another building.

I saw her go up to the third floor and knock on a door. A woman answered the door.

Curious, I waited for an opportunity when Josh was out of town and decided to investigate.

From my stakeout, I saw a young woman come out of the apartment on the third floor. Her belly was visibly swollen; she was at least six months pregnant.

Helen was carefully supporting her and fussing over her like she was carrying a royal heir.

At that moment, my vision blurred with rage.

I was young once. Seven years ago, I followed Josh through thick and thin, from eating cheap takeout in a tiny apartment to having a car and a home of our own.

During those years, I put off having children to ensure stability for both of our careers. I had even planned to quit my job this year to focus on my pregnancy. I never expected that he would strike me with the cruelest blow.

After the miscarriage six months ago, the doctor told me my chances of conceiving were slim.

That was when Helen started nitpicking and finding fault with everything I did. And just when I managed to get pregnant again, Josh found an excuse to beat me until I lost the baby.

That woman was to blame.

I walked back from the balcony into my bedroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I did not look like a 30-year-old woman anymore. Wrinkles lined my face, and my complexion was so pale it looked like I was anemic.

The aroma of chicken broth wafted through the air, followed by the sound of the front door opening.

“Mom, it smells amazing.”

I quickly went to greet him. I took his luggage and coat with a smile. “Honey, you’re finally back!” I chirped.

Josh glanced at me and feigned a hint of concern.

“Why aren’t you resting in bed? You just had a miscarriage.”

When I heard those words, tears blurred my vision.

Josh gently comforted me. “Don’t cry. It hurts me to see you like this.”

Meanwhile, Helen placed the thermos on the table with a loud thud and scolded me. “Why are you being so dramatic? This is what happens when you’re useless.”

“Mom, cut her some slack.”

Josh helped me back into the bedroom and gently urged me to lie down and rest.

As I watched his figure disappear out the door, I could not help but sneer.

Every time he beat me, there would always be a period where he would dote on me.

As long as I played along, I would not have to endure another beating.