My Wife Eloped, So I Went Home and Rose AgainChapter 1
On our wedding night, my wife, Anna Lane, was urgently reassigned to a top-secret research project.
For the next five years, she never returned, contacting the family only through letters.
She said her mission was too demanding and that she carried a heavy responsibility, making it impossible to come home.
But she promised that once there was progress, she would immediately request to bring my father-in-law and me to Springfield for a grand ceremony.
Clinging to this hope, I cared for my father-in-law, who had suffered a stroke, day after day, year after year, tending to his every need.
Until one day, my father-in-law had back pain, and I took him to the hospital for physiotherapy, taking a short break to head to the cafeteria to feed him.
Just as I stepped off the elevator, I saw Anna, heavily pregnant, being supported toward me by her younger sister.
“Sister, if you hadn’t suddenly broken off your engagement and eloped with your childhood sweetheart, pretending to join a classified project, the entire family wouldn’t have had to lie to your husband for five years.”
“Now that you and Michael Lewis have a child, you should tell your husband the truth sooner rather than later so the child can be registered.” Anna hesitated briefly, then shook her head.
“No, Dad’s health needs constant care, and I can’t bear to let Michael suffer.”
“After the child is born, I’ll lie and say it belongs to a friend and have Charles Quinn adopt it. He’s patient and a university professor; he’ll surely raise Michael and my child well.”
“Once Dad has been cared for by Charles until he passes peacefully, and the child is grown, I’ll go back and divorce him, giving him his freedom.”
Hearing this, my heart sank.
My five years of devotion felt like a ridiculous joke.
I walked down the corridor and dialed a long-forgotten number.
“Dad, I regret it. I want to return and inherit the family business. Do you still consider me your son?”
——
…There was a long silence before my father’s trembling voice finally came through.
“Silly child, no matter what’s happened, home is always home, and you’ll always be my good son!”
“As long as you’re willing to come back, the door will always be open!”
Hearing this, a lump rose in my throat.
My mother died young, and my father raised me alone. Our bond has always been deep.