“Forget it, you’re probably like your mom, unwilling to let your dad know the truth. But I can’t bear it any longer. Rocco is a model father, the rarest kind of good husband. I must tell him the truth; I can’t let him be deceived forever.”
Then, without hesitation, Veda produced a clearly fake paternity test, spitting out venomous lies. She painted me as an adulteress, accused me of conceiving another man’s child, of deceiving Rocco with shameless betrayal.
The joyous birthday banquet instantly dissolved into murmurs and ridicule.
Rocco broke down before my eyes. His hand rose, but when he looked at me, his strength faltered; he could not strike me.
Instead, he turned, climbed out of the window, and jumped. In my frantic panic, unable to explain or defend myself, I too lost my footing and fell.
Only after death did I finally learn that it had all been nothing more than one of my mother’s so-called jokes to lighten the mood.
…
Thinking of the despair and agony before death, and hearing Rocco’s gentle lullaby coaxing our daughter behind the door, I made up my mind in that instant.
I would not only protect this family, but also let my mother taste the bitter fruit of her own making.
A week slipped by quickly, and the first birthday banquet arrived, just as it had in the previous life.
The only difference was, this time, it was grander, more lavish, with even more relatives and friends filling the hall.
The moment the banquet began, Veda walked in, her tongue already sharp and restless.
“Giving birth to a money-losing girl and acting as if you’ve brought a crown prince into the world, what’s with that?”
“Making such a big show of it! When your nephew had his first birthday banquet, why didn’t you throw such a grand one then?”
“Even if Rocco has money, you can’t squander it like this. And with your brother’s heavy mortgage, if you really have money, shouldn’t you help him first?”
Rocco’s face darkened, but for my sake, he held back his words.
My in-laws, who had been joyfully holding my daughter, suddenly changed expressions at those remarks.
In truth, I had heard countless words like this before, yet every time I chose to endure.
Perhaps growing up under Veda’s constant scolding had numbed me into silence.
But I had already died once, how could I still fear her?