My fists turned white. My nails dug deep into my skin, but I felt no pain. The voice on the other end shook slightly.
“For the past few years, Richard has been pretending to have cancer. Meanwhile, Larissa secretly became pregnant several times. Each time, she had an abortion just before giving birth. She claimed it was her own choice … and … ”
“Enough. Stop talking.”
My voice caught in my throat as I wiped a tear from my face with cold fingers.
“Find out where Richard has been hiding all these years.”
After the call ended, I looked again at the post. Someone had replied to her.
[You’ve had several abortions? They weren’t your husband’s, right? I understand. I’ve been through this too.]
[Even if your husband doesn’t know whose child it was, it doesn’t matter. It’s still your baby. You’ve already done enough for the man at home.]
The last comment and the small line below it that said ‘liked by the poster’, stabbed straight into my eyes. So, this was the woman who had promised to love me with all her heart. I logged out of the account. But by mistake, I opened another system on my computer.
Larissa once told me that from now on, every password and lock in our home would use numbers only I knew. But that night, I typed again and again until the system froze for ten minutes. Still, I couldn’t unlock it.
I sat there for a long time, staring blankly at the screen. Then I typed again. This time, I entered the date Richard had been sentenced.
Ding!
It was successfully unlocked.
What appeared before me were more than 1,500 photos of Richard. It was then that I realized just how many ways the same man could be photographed from every angle, in every place. Each photo had a note beside it, written carefully in her familiar handwriting.
At that moment, my dear wife finally helped me see the truth. What had she been doing all those nights when she said she was working overtime? What had she been up to during our trips, during the Spring Festival, Valentine’s Day, Children’s Day, Christmas and even on my birthday?
I opened each photo one by one, reading every word she had written, forcing myself to relive their four years together in the cruelest way possible.
On the third day after Richard was sent away, I found a letter he had written to Larissa. It was short, only a few words.
[Larissa, I feel so bad.]