After six years of marriage, my husband, Michael, once again refused to meet me, using work as his excuse. I understood how hard he worked, so I made a special trip to New York to surprise him. But I never expected that when I walked into a flower shop, I would see my husband's wedding photo with another woman. ... The clerk confirmed with me again and again, "Are you sure you want these flowers sent to Michael Carter? The professor who teaches at the university?" I nodded, happily imagining the surprise on Michael's face when he received the flowers. But the clerk suddenly shrieked, "That's our boss's husband's name. What is your relationship with him?" "Don't tell me you're another one of his obsessed admirers?" After saying that, the clerk proudly pointed at the wall. Hanging there, plain as day, was a framed wedding photo. "Look how in love he is with our boss. Stop trying so hard to destroy their family!" The moment I saw the photo clearly, it felt as if I had been thrown into an ice cellar. For a long time, I could not say a word. The man in the photo was Michael. The woman leaning against him wore a white wedding dress, her face glowing with happiness. While I stood there in a daze, the clerk turned and went to a corner to make a phone call. A little while later, a woman pushing a stroller opened the door and walked in. Her complexion was rosy, but her expression was unusually wary. "So you're the one trying to send flowers and seduce my husband?" Her appraising gaze was full of contempt. "Ever since my husband became a tenured professor, I've lost count of how many women like you I've had to deal with!" She looked so natural, as if she were Michael's real wife. Everything hit me at once, so hard that for a moment I could not bring myself to believe it. I forced down the enormous shock in my chest, dug my nails hard into my palm, and struggled to keep myself calm. "Ma'am, you've misunderstood." "I'm only here to ask Professor Carter for some research materials." At some point, a few passersby had gathered around us. After hearing what I said, they joked, "Vivian, don't be so angry. Professor Carter dotes on you so much. He wouldn't even look twice at another woman!" Only then did the woman breathe a sigh of relief. She warmly pulled me over and had me sit down on a chair. "Don't blame me. It's all because my husband is too outstanding. Women are always trying to seduce him, so I can't help getting a little nervous." She lowered her head and kissed the baby boy in her arms. There was a showy note in her voice. "This is my husband's and my child. What do you think? Cute, isn't he?" I had to admit, the child looked a lot like Michael. Back then, he chose to stay at the university to teach, while I was assigned by the CIA to a covert station overseas. I was shut away there for six years. For six years, I endured all the danger and loneliness alone, risking my life in exchange for medal after medal. And what waited for me in the end was my husband keeping another family outside our marriage. He had even had children with her. Just then, a middle-aged woman walked in from outside. "Well, Vivian, Professor Carter finally let you out?" Vivian smiled playfully. "Linda, you have to keep it a secret for me." "If Michael finds out I went out by myself, he'll worry himself sick again!" Linda laughed along with her. "Oh my god, your husband is seriously the most devoted man I've ever seen in New York." "Even when you're having steak at a restaurant, he cuts it into bite-sized pieces and feeds it to you. Whenever you go out, he's terrified something might happen to you. He worries like crazy." Listening to them, a sharp ache tore through my chest, and my face turned faintly pale. Vivian handed me a cookie with a smile. "Have something to tide you over. You came all this way. You must be starving." "I baked these cookies myself. Michael loves them, but he worries my hands will get tired, so he won't let me make too many." How ironic those words sounded to me. I had thought my husband only knew how to bury his head in research, careless and clumsy about daily life. It turned out he had given all his tenderness and consideration to his second family in New York.
"Mommy." A child's call interrupted our conversation. When I saw the little girl's face clearly, my whole body stiffened. The girl looked a lot like Michael too. She seemed to be around four or five years old. She ran to Vivian's side and acted spoiled. "When is Daddy coming home? I miss him so much." I looked at the baby boy in Vivian's arms, then at the little girl whining beside her, and the bitterness in my heart almost spilled over. Michael and I had been married for years, but we had never had children. Over the years, I had told him countless times that I wanted a child. When we were newly married, Michael once held me and said, "We're newlyweds. We haven't had enough time alone together yet. There's no rush to have children." Later, before I was selected by the CIA for the mission, I became anxious and insisted that we try for a child before I left. He agreed readily enough, but every time my ovulation window came, he would just so happen to be away on a business trip. "I'm really too tired. Why do you think I'm working so hard? Isn't it to give you and our future child a better life?" "We're both educated people. We can't let a child hold back our careers." Later still, whenever I brought up having a child, he would repeatedly say that he was worried about my health and did not want childbirth to drag down my career. For a time, I truly believed he did not like children. So it turned out someone else had already given him children. Vivian glanced down at her phone, her smile full of sweetness. "My husband almost never goes out, and he never works overtime." "Today really is just bad timing. I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you to wait a little longer." At that, I was stunned again. The two words Michael said to me most often were "working overtime." If he did not answer the phone, he was working overtime. If he could not come home to see me, he was working overtime. Even last Christmas, he had been working overtime the entire time. Three years ago, his mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. He said his project was at a critical stage and he had no way to take care of her, so he could only ask me to help. I was so busy I could barely breathe. But while his mother was ill, she jumped into a lake when the caregiver was not paying attention. The hospital called my workplace directly. I was truly swamped, so I asked Michael to go handle it. But he still shirked it, saying he was working overtime. In the end, I was forced to go and deal with it for him, which delayed my CIA work. Listening to Vivian, a bone-deep sense of helplessness swept through my entire body. Vivian picked up her crying little son and stood. "The baby is hungry. My home is nearby. If you don't mind, you can come wait there with me." I stood up almost eagerly, but still made my tone sound casual. "Do you live with his parents?" Vivian shook her head. "His parents passed away a long time ago. It's just my parents at home. He treats my parents better than he would his own." I picked at my nails, wondering how Michael's mother would feel if she heard those words. When I lowered my head, my eyes accidentally caught a line of small print on Vivian's daughter's backpack: Department of Defense Affiliated Elementary School. Seeing me stop, Vivian smiled and explained, "That's my older daughter's school." "My husband is a Gold Star Family member, so under policy, they made a special exception and let our child attend that school." Hearing the words "Gold Star Family," I looked up in confusion. "Gold Star Family?" Vivian nodded and sat down beside me. "Yes. His sister was a martyr who died in service to the country." After she said that, she caught sight of the small embroidered words on the cuff of my down jacket: New York Headquarters · Central Field Station. Her eyes immediately lit up. "Oh, his sister used to work where you do." "Her name was Sarah Carter. Do you know her? She died in the line of duty six years ago." Those words struck me like a bolt from the blue. My body swayed, almost unable to stand. How could I not know her? I was the Sarah Carter she was talking about. As his legal wife, I had somehow become his so-called sister. It was truly ridiculous. Seeing my face turn deathly pale, Vivian considerately stuffed a hand warmer into my hands. "Did you get too cold outside? Here, warm your hands. Michael knows I get cold easily, so he stocked up on a lot of these." Vivian's happy smile was like a red-hot branding iron, burning my chest again and again. I struggled to steady my emotions and asked as if by accident, "How could they send someone to work in such a harsh place?" Vivian smiled and said, "My husband's family has money, but what good is money? Without power or connections, people still bully you." "So my husband stepped in himself and sent his sister there!" That sentence became the final straw. So back then, Michael had deliberately made me leave. He had locked me away in that isolated CIA place for six whole years. Knowing full well that I was my parents' only daughter, he still sent me away without hesitation. So when my father died of a heart attack, I could not make it back in time to see him one last time because of work. On one hand, Michael used my "Gold Star" status to let the illegitimate children he had with another woman enjoy national benefits. On the other, he kept a beautiful woman by his side in another home, surrounded by children. My voice trembled slightly. "Have you... ever met his sister?"
Vivian shook her head. "My husband said he was afraid the family would be saddened by seeing her things, so he got rid of everything that belonged to his sister. He didn't keep even a single photo." "By the way, I still haven't asked your name." I paused, then gave a fake name. "Call me Sally." Vivian laughed. "What a coincidence. Michael's sister seemed to have an alias too. It was Sally." I lowered my head and did not answer. Vivian chattered on the whole way. "Thank goodness my husband had vision and sent his sister to serve the country. My two children can enjoy Federal Gold Star Family benefits for medical care, school, everything." "When my son was born, the government even issued a special compensation payment." Gold Star benefits had limited slots. No wonder Michael had always insisted we remain childfree. It turned out he was afraid the children I gave birth to would take away his illegitimate children's share. A bitter taste rose in my throat. I did not know what to say, so I asked casually, "When was your son born?" "November eleventh. The day I had my little boy, Michael booked the most expensive private hospital in Manhattan, with VIP delivery care the entire time." My head snapped up, and my pupils shrank. That was the day my father died. That day, the doctor said that if my father had been brought to the hospital just one hour earlier, he could have been saved. But Michael, who had promised to help me take care of my parents, could not be reached no matter how many times I called. At my father's funeral, Michael slapped himself across the face while sobbing and apologizing to me. I thought it was genuine guilt, so I forced down every doubt in my heart. Who could have imagined that he had been at another hospital that day, watching his illegitimate son be born? As the truth was laid out before me piece by piece, anger nearly burned straight through me. Vivian was still speaking. "It's just that the two children are a little far apart in age. More than six years. They fight all the time." At that moment, I could already be certain that when Michael married me, he had already been with Vivian. Vivian raised her hand and pointed ahead. "We're here. This is my home." Unlike our ordinary apartment, they lived in a penthouse near Central Park. The place was decorated so warmly. Fresh lilies sat on the dining table, and family photos of the four of them hung on the walls. Every sharp corner of the furniture had been carefully wrapped with soft padding. I forced a smile. "Your home is so clean and warm." "Oh, Michael did all the decorating. He always says a home should feel like a home." Hearing that, another wave of bitterness surged through me. When Michael was with me, he never touched housework. He threw clothes and socks everywhere and was too lazy even to take out the trash. If something at home broke, he would leave it there and wait for me to come back and fix it. Every time I took family leave, it became my deep-cleaning day. Thinking about it now, I was truly ridiculous. Cleaning the house, earning money to support the family, helping take care of his mother... All my efforts had become the perfect warm backdrop for my husband's affair. I forced down the pain in my heart and asked as if unintentionally, "Your family seems very well-off. Money and status, and such a large apartment. Did you buy it yourself?" Vivian smiled. "My husband bought it." "I was lucky. I had just come to New York from a small town when I met Michael." "The flower shop downstairs was also opened for me with money he provided six years ago." Michael came from a poor family. When we got married, even the home we lived in was rented with my salary. At that time, he had not yet established himself in New York and had hardly any money at all. And now that he had achieved success and fame, he spent all his money on his other family. Just then, the door clicked open from outside. It was Vivian's father. His gaze as he looked me over was full of scrutiny and caution. "Who is this?" Vivian introduced me warmly. "Dad, this is someone who came to get important materials from Michael." The old man nodded indifferently. "Michael is like my own son. The country values him, and I feel proud too. Tonight I'll cook myself and make something nice for you all." Just then, a phone began to ring. Vivian casually put it on speaker. I heard Michael's voice clearly. "Honey, I may not get back until after midnight tonight." "I know you've been craving those chocolates lately, so I made a special trip to buy your favorite handmade ones." "Sorry to make you wait so long. Be good."
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