In the tenth year of our marriage, my husband, Adam, had an affair. He brought his mistress’s two children to me. He said the children were pitiful and needed a father. My own daughter begged him not to leave, but he was unmoved. I didn’t fight him. I took our daughter and left. Fearing she would be mistreated by a stepfather, I never remarried. Years later, my daughter found a good man. My granddaughter was adorable, and I spent my days caring for her. Life was happy and peaceful. On my sixtieth birthday, my daughter and son-in-law said they were swamped with work. My granddaughter had a last-minute tutoring session. They promised to celebrate with me the next day. But that night, I came across a local video on my phone. In a luxurious private room at a hotel— My daughter and her family were standing with Adam. And his mistress’s two children. The six of them were gathered together, singing "Happy Birthday" to the other woman. And my daughter called her, "Mom." 1 My daughter insisted that my sixtieth birthday had to be a grand celebration. I told her not to spend so much money. "No," she said. "I've seen how hard you've worked all these years. This has to be a proper celebration." Her words warmed my heart. I was deeply touched. All these years, I had raised her alone. I watched her grow up, get married, and have a child of her own. My son-in-law was a good man, treating me like his own mother. My granddaughter was a sweet, lovely child who called me "Grandma" in the most adorable voice. I was happy. The pain of Adam’s betrayal had slowly healed over the years. So, when my daughter brought up the idea of a big party, I was genuinely moved and looked forward to the day. When you get older, you crave the liveliness of family, the feeling of being surrounded by your children and grandchildren. It gives you something to look forward to. On the day of my birthday, I woke up early. I tidied myself up, took my granddaughter, Rebecca, to school, and left breakfast on the table for my daughter and son-in-law before they left for work. My daughter, Eva, had promised they would finish their work in the morning and come home early to start the party. I stayed home, cleaning the house, waiting for them. But I waited and waited. The agreed-upon time came and went, and Eva still wasn't home. Worried something had happened, I was just about to call her when my phone rang. It was her. "Mom, something important came up at work, for both me and Will. It's so sudden. We can't get away. I don't think we can celebrate your birthday today..." Her voice was full of guilt. I was disappointed, but their careers were more important. I tried to sound cheerful. "It's okay, dear. Work comes first. You two focus on your jobs. I'll go pick up Rebecca from..." "Oh!" She cut me off before I could finish. "Mom, it's your birthday. You should take a break. A friend of mine is passing by the school this afternoon and will pick Rebecca up and bring her to my office. You just stay home and rest." Thinking of how hard Eva was working, and how young Rebecca was, I protested. "Let me get her. You're so busy, and she's at that rambunctious age. She'll distract you from your work." At that, Eva sounded agitated, her voice rising. "No, really, it's on my friend's way. Mom, don't worry about it. Just rest at home. I have a meeting soon, so I have to go." She hung up before I could say another word. Listening to the dial tone, I sighed. Eva had been working so hard lately, she’d lost weight. I went back into the kitchen to stew a chicken for her and Will, to help them regain their strength. The chicken needed to cook for a long time, and I had already finished the housework. So I sat on the sofa, took out my phone, and decided to rest for a bit. When you're older, you find simple pleasures in things like scrolling through videos. I opened the app, swiped through a few, but nothing caught my eye. Just as I was about to close it, I accidentally tapped on the "Local" feed. And I saw her. I recognized the back of her head instantly. It was my daughter, Eva. 2 The video had been posted half an hour ago. I tapped on it. The scene was a private room in a hotel. My daughter stood at a table, my son-in-law beside her, holding Rebecca's hand. All three of them were smiling. Eva turned her head slightly, and the camera panned. And then, I saw Adam. If there was one person in this world I hated, it was, without a doubt, Adam. We had fallen in love when we were young. I thought we would have a lifetime of happiness together. But in the tenth year of our marriage, his first love's husband died in a car accident, leaving her a widow with two young children. Such a pitiful sight. At first, he helped them secretly, behind my back. When I found out, we had a huge fight. His face was red with fury as he called me heartless. Then, he came to me, with his first love's two children in his arms, and handed me the divorce papers. "Leo and Violet are too young," he said. "They can't be without a father." So he was divorcing me to be with his first love, to become a father to these two children. As he said this, our own daughter, then named Amy, clung to his leg, sobbing, begging her daddy not to leave. But Adam turned and walked away without a second glance. I didn't prolong the agony. I took most of his assets and left with our daughter. I changed her surname to mine, Wang. From Amy, she became Eva. Fearing she would be mistreated by a stepfather, I never remarried. I devoted my life to her, watching her grow, go to university, fall in love, get married, and then have the adorable Rebecca. And through all of this, Adam never once appeared in our lives. I heard rumors that he and his first love never had children of their own, that they raised her two children as their own, tirelessly and without complaint. Eva had once told me that she hated Adam as much as I did. I thought that she, who had memories of the divorce, would remember my pain and shun them like the plague. But I never imagined they were still in contact. Not only that, in the video, Eva and Adam stood side by side, heads bowed in conversation, with not a trace of hatred between them. Eva was even leading the "Happy Birthday" song. My son-in-law and Rebecca clapped along, and the mistress's two children, now grown, joined in the singing. And the woman in the center of their circle, the star of the show, was Adam’s first love, Sophia. She was as radiant as ever, dressed in a beautiful gown, still treated like a princess. She and I share the same birthday. And the cruelest joke of all— My daughter, Eva, the light of my life, after the song finished, walked up to Sophia, hugged her, and called her, "Mom." 3 My phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor, the video still playing on a loop. My chest ached, but more than the pain, there was a sense of disbelief. I tried to find an excuse, any reason to make it not true. My daughter, who had been my whole world, who had witnessed her father's cruelty, who had seen how Sophia played the innocent victim while destroying our family—how could she call that woman... Mom? I sat on the sofa for a long time, numb, until the acrid smell of something burning pulled me back to reality. The chicken soup had boiled dry. I rushed to turn off the stove, my mind in a turmoil. I reached for the pot with my bare hands, searing my fingers. A large red welt immediately appeared. Just as I was about to treat the burn, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a delivery man holding a cake. The cake I had ordered for myself. A small one. When you're old, you tend to get sentimental. After Eva's call, I had gone online and ordered a small cake. A celebration for one is still a celebration. I placed the cake on the coffee table and stuck a few candles in it. I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes to make a wish. I had had my wishes all planned out. I wish for my precious daughter to have a happy and smooth life. I wish for my son-in-law to love my daughter forever. I wish for my adorable Rebecca to be healthy and smart. Those were the wishes I had intended to make. But now— When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Eva lying to me about working late, then taking her husband and child to celebrate Sophia's birthday. In the video, Sophia was surrounded by people, her birthday celebration so lively. They looked like a real family. Unlike me, alone and cold, a clown, a joke. The child I had given birth to had become a knife plunged into my heart. The pain was unbearable. Tears, useless and unwelcome, streamed down my face. I wiped them away and made a new wish. "I wish... that for the rest of my days, I will be happy." That's right. For so many years, all my wishes had been for my child. Never for myself. And now, I saw how little it was worth. I took a couple of bites of the cake. It was too sweet, cloying. I glanced at the time. It was already eleven at night. Usually, by now, I would have finished all the housework, put the child to bed, and gone to sleep myself. But tonight, I couldn't sleep. A moment later— I heard a noise at the front door. Eva tiptoed in, but as she passed the entryway, she saw me sitting in the living room. She froze, a flicker of panic in her eyes. My son-in-law and Rebecca followed behind her, chattering about the birthday party until they saw me and fell silent. Rebecca, trying to act innocent, blinked her big eyes, held out her arms to me, and said she missed her grandma and wanted a hug. But as she ran towards me, I didn't scoop her up with my usual affection. This child, from the moment she was born, I had poured all my love into her, just as I had with Eva. My son-in-law had no parents, and they were both so busy. In this big city, expenses were high. I had taken care of Rebecca so they could work without worry. But she, so young, had also betrayed me, just like her mother. Eva walked towards me, still trying to pretend nothing was wrong. She rubbed her shoulders and complained about how busy her day had been, promising to make it up to me tomorrow. Her eyes fell on the small cake on the coffee table, and she paused. "Mom, you bought yourself a cake?" Maybe it was because my cake was so small, or maybe because the one they had for Sophia was so large, but the guilt in her eyes deepened. I saw no point in beating around the bush. I asked her directly, "Eva, where were you today?" She froze, her eyes searching my face, as if looking for something. In the end, she chose to play dumb. "Mom, what are you talking about? I was at work." She glanced at Will and Rebecca. Will nodded quickly. "That's right, Mom. I was swamped today. My back is killing me." Rebecca, mimicking her father, shook her head like a bobblehead doll. "Grandma, we didn't go eat cake today, we didn't—" Children are not very good at lying. The more they talk, the more they reveal. Eva didn't even have time to cover her mouth. She could only offer a strained smile, her eyes darting around as she tried to come up with another lie. "Mom, don't misunderstand. Rebecca was getting restless at my office, so I bought her a small piece of cake." The flimsy lie was a deep disappointment. I took out my phone, found the video, and tossed it in front of her. She froze, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to explain. But in the end, she sighed, flopped onto the sofa beside me, and adopted a defiant tone. "Oh, Mom! It's been so many years! I know you hate Dad, but he and I are related by blood. For your sake, I've barely seen him all these years. Isn't that enough? You're so old now, what grudges can't you let go of? Even if you can't, don't drag me into it! Have I ever missed one of your birthdays? Aunt... Sophia has the same birthday as you. She never says anything, but I know she wants the family to be together. I figured, since we live together, we can celebrate your birthday any day. So I celebrated with her first, and I'll make it up to you tomorrow. What's the big deal? Mom, you're not a child anymore. Stop throwing tantrums! Will and I are exhausted from work every day. Being with Dad is actually relaxing for me. Can't you just try to see things from my perspective for once?" Her whining words chilled my already cold heart. "So," I asked, "you're blaming me for keeping you from your father?" I looked at Eva. She didn't resemble Adam at all; she looked more like me. That's why, when we divorced, Adam had poured all his fatherly love onto Sophia’s two children, especially her daughter, Violet. The first time I saw her, she was only six, but she was the spitting image of Sophia. Adam adored her. Back then, Eva had cried hysterically, curled up in my arms, asking me over and over, "Mommy, why doesn't Daddy want me? Why is he going to be someone else's daddy? Doesn't he love me anymore?" Seeing her cry broke my heart. The child I had carried for ten months, saddled with such an irresponsible father. It was a tragedy. But now, it all seemed like a joke. Eva, oblivious to the change in my tone, started to whine like she always did. "Mom, that's not what I mean. But think about it, Dad is getting old. No matter what, I have his blood in me. After so many years, shouldn't the hatred have faded? And Aunt Sophia... she's actually a very nice person. She only stole Dad away because she was worried Leo and Violet wouldn't have a father. She even apologized to me and buys me gifts, treats me like her own daughter. Whatever happened in the past, you're old now. Why do you have to keep clinging to that old baggage?" Her complaints were laughable. The father who had abandoned her without a backward glance, the father she had cried for in the middle of the night, asking me why he didn't want her. And Sophia, the other woman, who had bought her a few gifts and was now forgiven? I shook her hand off me. "Eva, so in your eyes, my not forgiving Adam and Sophia is me being unreasonable?" She nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course it is! I was young then, I've forgotten most of the bad stuff. When I close my eyes now, all I remember are the good times with Dad when I was a little girl. We were so happy then. So, Mom, I hope you can forget too. We can be a family again, like before. Aunt Sophia is really nice, you two could probably be like sis... ah!" Before she could finish, I slapped her across the face. She shrieked, jumped to her feet, and clutched her cheek, yelling at me, "Mom, what did you hit me for?! With a temper like yours, it's no wonder Dad prefers gentle, quiet Sophia!" With that, she ran into her room, crying. My son-in-law and Rebecca followed, trying to comfort her. The door was left ajar. I could vaguely hear their voices. "...getting old and senile..." "...holding a grudge for a lifetime..." "...cranky old woman..." "...so annoying..." And more. These were the words of the daughter I had loved for half my life. In that moment, my heart truly died. I stood up, went to my room, packed my bags, and left the homeowners' association group chat on my phone. Eva and her husband had worked hard for years, but the housing prices in the capital were astronomical. They were still paying off their mortgage every month. I had felt sorry for them, so I had been supplementing their income with my pension and paying their mortgage, as well as their utilities, groceries, and even Rebecca's tutoring fees. Now that I was leaving, I would no longer be contributing. Whether they could afford it on their own was no longer my concern. Besides that, I had another property that no one, not even Eva, knew about. I had bought it as a precaution against my son-in-law, in case he turned out to be like Adam. The property was in my name, and I had planned to transfer it to Eva after I was gone. Now, it seemed, that was no longer necessary. That property would be my new home. With a handsome pension every month, I could live quite comfortably on my own. When I left my room, Eva was still crying. The cake was still on the table. Everything was a mess. I dragged my suitcase and left without a second of hesitation.
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