My husband announced that he was leaving for a week-long business trip to England. He urged me to stay home and rest, insisting there was no need to visit his parents in the countryside. Yet that day, my instincts told me differently, so I took the bus and decided to surprise my in-laws. As soon as I entered the gate, what struck me first wasn’t my mother-in-law’s warm smile, nor my father-in-law’s slender figure sweeping the yard. What froze me in place was the sight of an entire row of baby diapers hanging from clotheslines. Some carried yellow stains, others boron traces of milk. I stood rooted, unable to move. My in-laws were well into their sixties – far too old to have a baby. None of our relatives had left a child with them either. Then… whose diapers were these? I stepped inside trembling. The house was unusually quiet, but a faint aroma of baby formula lingered. On the table lay a half-empty feeding bottle. My chest tightened, thoughts clashing in my mind. Could my husband be keeping something from me? Then, from the old bedroom my husband and I always used when visiting, came the cry of a baby. I rushed there, my hands shaking as I fumbled with the lock. The moment the door swung open, I saw a newborn on the bed, flailing tiny arms and legs, while my mother-in-law hurriedly altered her clothes. She paled at the sight of me, as if the blood drained from her face. Stammering, I asked: — Mom… whose baby is this? Her hands trembled, her eyes darted away, and she whispered faintly: — Please don’t hate us… this child carries the bl00d of our family. My body went numb. My husband’s excuses, his strange trips, her escapes… everything destroyed together in my head. Continued on next page:

– Your so-called “business trip to England”… was that just a pretext to secretly take care of your illegitimate son?
The atmosphere in the room became stifling. My mother-in-law clutched the baby, my father-in-law froze at the door, while beads of sweat formed on my husband’s forehead.

I stepped forward and almost shouted:

Admit it! This child is yours, isn’t it?!
Continued on the next page:

After a long silence, he finally nodded.

My heart shattered. All my love, my trust, all my sacrifices – burned to ashes.

A bitter laugh escaped me:

– So all these years I was just a puppet while you led a double life – my husband, the father of another child.
He rushed towards me and desperately grabbed my hand:

– Please, listen to me, it’s not what you think… I wanted to tell you, but…
I jerked my hand away, my eyes sparkling:

“Not the way I think?! Then what? Did this baby fall from the sky?”
The silence was unbearable. My mother-in-law wanted to say something, but I raised my hand to calm her down. I needed the truth straight from him.

“How long did you intend to keep this from me? Until the baby calls me ‘aunt’? Or until I can’t have any more children and you use that as an excuse to get rid of me?” He lowered his head in silence. That silence was the cruelest confession of all.

I took a deep breath, my voice calm and determined:

– Fine. You have a son, but I still have my dignity. Get a divorce. I refuse to live as the pitiable wife everyone pities against.

He panicked:

— No! I was mistaken, but think of our family, my parents…
I glared at him:

— The one who never thought about this family… was you.
With that, I turned and left, leaving behind the baby’s crying, my husband’s desperate pleas, and my mother-in-law’s sobs.

But I didn’t stop. Only one thought burned in my head: I will start over, and never with him again.