The day before my husband’s tech company went public, both my mother-in-law, Gemma Eldridge, and my son, Matty, suddenly had a relapse.

Concerned, my husband Chris took them back to the city overnight.

Still uneasy, I took a taxi over to check on them.

Instead, I heard his childhood sweetheart, Melissa Shaw, remark, "I'm glad I switched the babies back then. Or else, I wouldn't have survived raising a child with cerebral palsy."

Gemma, standing off to the side, looked visibly uneasy.

She murmured under her breath, “Is this really alright? After all, Nadine has taken care of us for ten years.”

Chris sighed. “I will give her some money when the time comes. That way, my conscience will be clear.”

During the listing ceremony the next day, Chris proposed to Melissa with heartfelt emotion, kneeling on stage as he did so.

The entire city erupted in celebration of their great love story.

Even my biological son, Tucker, held a bouquet, beaming with excitement as he acted as their flower boy.

And I stood hidden in a corner, clutching my thin, worn jacket tighter around myself.

“So the one whose mind wasn’t right was me.”

——

Later that night, I took a six-hour bus ride and then switched to a motorcycle taxi to return to the village. When I walked into the house, the old phone I had left on the dining table flashed with twenty missed calls.

As soon as I called back, my university advisor’s thrilled voice burst through the speaker.

“Nadine. I have found a treatment for cerebral palsy.”

Instantly, the ache in my chest melted into a warm rush. I never expected this.

After ten whole years, Dr. Daniel Pearson still cared deeply about Matty’s condition.

Clutching the phone, my voice came out hoarse with emotion. “Professor, when can we start the treatment?”

“I have already contacted the specialists abroad,” he said without pause. “Three days from now, I will come to the village and take you overseas.”

As soon as I heard that, guilt tightened around my throat. I couldn't help but think about how, because of Chris, I had decisively quit my mentor’s research project all those years ago.

“Thank you, Professor.” My voice cracked.

Just as I hung up, the wooden door behind me creaked open.

Whenever we came back from medical visits in the city, no matter how late, Mom would always bring Matty home that same night, so I would turn instinctively.

“Mom, what did the doctor say about Matty—”

But I froze.

The person who had come back was not Mom.

It was Chris who should have been enjoying his wedding night in the city.

Even from several feet away, I could smell the lingering wine from the ceremony clinging to him.

“Nadine,” he said, frowning slightly, “why are you awake at this hour? And why is the light off?”

The dim yellow bulb cast a soft glow on his tired face, but it couldn't hide the happiness in his brows, or the subtle arrogance of someone who now entirely belonged to the city.

In the past, I would have run right into his arms, tears of longing rolling down my face, letting him pinch my nose and tease me for being a little crybaby.

But now, as he moved toward me, I automatically stepped back and acted like nothing was wrong.

I've just finished harvesting the crops and have just got home. I'm dirty."

In the summer, when the daytime heat became overwhelming, villagers often harvested crops at night with flashlights.

Chris had grown up in the countryside too, so he didn’t find this unusual. He slightly frowned and took a small step back.

“Nadine, you have worked hard these past years.”

To support his start-up, I left my job despite being a graduate of a top university. I returned to the village to care for our son with cerebral palsy and his mother, whose leg was crippled.

For ten entire years, no matter how bitter or exhausting life became, I endured it. Before I knew the truth, I pushed through each grueling day by holding onto the dream of the grand wedding and city-life happiness he had promised me.

But now, I felt nothing except exhaustion.

Too tired to question him.

Too tired to argue.

Too tired to care.

The only thing on my mind was to quietly make it through the next three days, as I was planning to take Matty overseas for treatment after that.

Expressionless, I took the sleeping Matty from Chris's arms.

“You must be tired from the trip,” I said. “Go wash up. I will put him to bed.”

I turned toward the bedroom, but he followed me.

“Matty is heavy. Let me carry him.”

Chris lifted Matty from my arms and laid him gently on the bed. Then, turning back to me, he took both my hands in his, rubbing the calluses on my palms with his thumbs.

“Nadine, it is my fault for making you wait all these years. Has someone in the village been mistreating you?”

I pulled my hands away from his and looked down at the rough calluses, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“Everyone is so exhausted they barely have time to sleep,” I said quietly. “Who has the energy to bully anyone? I am just tired, that is all. Don't overthink it.”

Chris, who grew up in the countryside himself, knew how tough farm work could be. He also understood that I was not just working the fields; I was caring for our son with cerebral palsy and his mother, who had a crippled leg.

So instead of pushing further, he just wrapped his arms around me.

“Nadine, you will not have to work so hard anymore,” he said gently. “I bought a place in the city. This time, I came back to bring you there so you can finally enjoy life. But there is something I want to discuss. We are just a little short on paying off the mortgage. And with school district housing, there is a rule. If you have no outstanding loans under your name, you can register two children at the same time.”

My throat tightened, and heat rose behind my eyes.

Instinctively, I tightened my grip around the peace pendant in my hand. It was the small dowry I had saved for myself after years of scrimping and scraping.

And this man wanted to use that money to pay off his mortgage.

“Chris, we only have one child,” I said slowly. “We do not need two school slots.”

The moment the words left my mouth, the bedroom door swung open.

Gemma was the first to appear, her limp as familiar as ever. Behind her, Melissa and a little boy followed, who looked almost exactly like me when I was young.

Without meeting my eyes, Gemma went straight to Matty’s bedside.

Melissa, however, stepped forward. She deliberately, slowly opened her handbag, pulled out a property certificate, and handed it to me, making sure her new wedding ring caught the light.

“Nadine, do not misunderstand,” she said smoothly. “Chris only did this because he felt sorry for me. He wanted to help my child get a spot to study in the city.”

I stayed silent.

She placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and nudged him forward.

“Tucker, say hi to Aunt Nadine.”

“I don’t wanna call some country lady Auntie!” Tucker cried. “I wanna go home! The mosquitoes here won’t stop biting me!”

He recoiled from me as if I carried something infectious.

Still silent, I opened the property certificate.

On the line labeled “Owner,” Melissa’s name was printed clearly.

I froze.

Noticing my reaction, Chris immediately jumped in, talking fast.

“Nadine, don’t take it the wrong way. Getting kids into a city school is complicated. I only put her name down so the property records and the school paperwork would line up. Melissa lost her whole family in a fire, and she’s been raising her kid on her own. Since we’re all from the same hometown, I figured… if we could help, we should. But if you mind, I will change the property information as soon as I get back. And we can take our time paying off the mortgage.”

He snatched the certificate from my hand, as if he feared I would fling it across the room.

But I said, calm and detached, “Schooling is important. Handle it however you think is best.”

Shock flickered across his face, followed by visible relief and then almost giddy joy.

“Nadine, I knew you would be the most understanding.”

Right then, I thought, 'No, Chris. I'm not understanding. I don't care anymore.'

I glanced over at Tucker. He was hiding behind Melissa, scratching at his mosquito bites impatiently, looking at me as if I were just another insect buzzing nearby.

“Um… Nadine,” Melissa said, trying to sound gentle, “Tucker does not seem used to staying here. Maybe we should pack up and head back to the city tomorrow?”

I lowered my head and smoothed Matty’s bedding, not bothering to look at her.

“I have no problem with that,” I said evenly. “But if everyone goes together, the car will be overloaded.”

Tucker tugged on Chris’s sleeve, his voice small and pitiful. “Daddy, I do not want to stay here feeding mosquitoes…”

Chris gave me a panicked look and quickly tried to explain, “He is just a kid. He talks nonsense. Nadine, do not take it to heart.”

Chris’s mother tried to smooth things over as well, guilt written all over her face.

“Yes, yes… Tucker never had a father growing up. Maybe he is just exhausted from the trip and talking nonsense in his sleep.”

Melissa’s eyes, however, flashed with open pride and provocation, even though she kept her voice soft and agreeable.

“That is right, Nadine. Tucker only acts this way because he likes Chris so much. He even asked me once if he could make him his godfather.”

“Recognizing a relative is fine,” I said with a smile. “Since that’s the case, why don’t you all head back first? Matty has a neurology appointment tomorrow, and Mom needs to pick up more medication for her leg. You can use the time to get the new place ready.”

At that, some of the tension eased from Chris’s expression.

I, however, found the situation almost ridiculous. He knew exactly what mattered most to me: Matty’s condition and Gemma’s mobility problems.

When Matty was born, the doctors said specialized therapy offered only a one percent chance of recovery. So, for ten years, rain or shine, I carried Matty on my back for miles to the town clinic each week.

Regarding Gemma’s bad leg, I also consulted a doctor. With regular massages and medication, there’s hope for improvement.

So for ten years, without fail, morning and night, I massaged her bad leg for an hour each time. I even learned proper techniques from the doctor.

Carefully, I helped her leg recover from being unable to touch the ground to walking again, and to give Chris enough money to start his business, I sold everything my parents had left me.

Even while keeping our household afloat, I set aside the money from grain sales each month to support him.

When Chris finally returned to the present moment, guilt and a hint of heartache surfaced in his eyes.

“Nadine, the medical facilities in the city are better than the town’s. Let us take Matty there for treatment.”

Before he could finish, Melissa jabbed an elbow sharply into his side.

The rest of his words faded into the sound of insects chirping outside, and he did not attempt to bring the subject up again.

A silent, bitter laugh rose inside me.

“No need,” I said quietly. “Matty and Mom’s conditions are important. I do not feel safe leaving them to anyone else. You all settle into the new home. Once I am done here, I will come find you.”

Chris’s face tightened, as if he still wanted to say something.

But before he could speak, Tucker poked his head out from behind him and shot me a disgusted look.

“There are only three bedrooms,” he complained. “I do not want Dad getting talked about because of someone.”

For this child, who was not mine and hadn't grown up with me, I felt no affection at all, and I knew precisely where his snide comments came from: Melissa had taught him.

If I moved into the new house as Chris’s wife, rumors in the city would explode instantly.

The carefully crafted, devoted-lover image Chris had displayed at his grand wedding would crumble on the spot.

Online harassment would be nothing compared to the fallout he truly feared:

Eldridge Tech Corporation’s stock price is plummeting.

He had clawed his way out of poverty with enormous difficulty. Of course, he did not want to fall back down and never climb out again.

But knowing all of this did not make the sting any less sharp.

My heart felt as if it were being sliced open, layer by layer, with a kitchen knife dipped in lemon juice.

For ten years, I had given Chris everything, heart, soul, and body.

To save more money for him, I wore the same clothes for a decade.

I woke before dawn and slept past midnight, surviving on five hours of rest a day.

At my lowest, I collapsed in the rice fields and vomited blood.

Even when the doctor warned I would die if I kept pushing myself, I never once told Chris I was tired.

I sincerely believed that eventually, all my sacrifices would be rewarded. I imagined him standing before me at a special ceremony, placing a wedding ring on my finger, and gazing at me with steadfast devotion.

But I had forgotten something essential:

Love’s ending is often simply that. An ending.

My throat burned as if it had been soaked in acid, and even breathing hurt.