At the same time, I began to speculate why my mother insisted on picking the wild berries in heavy rain. Tears fell as I looked at the sweet smiles of the two people on the screen. “I will make this pair of adult pay!”
After settling affairs with my mother's remains, I returned home in a daze, holding a flimsy death certificate in my hand.
“Where have you been?” My husband began bombarding me with questions the moment I stepped into the house. “You've been gone for days without a word, not even a call. Have you been out seeing another man?”
What a ridiculous question. I forced myself to suppress the overflowing hatred in my heart and asked him, “I disappeared without a word? I called you over and over, but you didn't pick up. Where were you?”
“I have a business to do!” He snapped. He seemed regretful for a split second, then his face hardened again. “Didn't I tell you before that I was going on a business trip? Do you think I went out to meet another woman?”
I stared at him and sneered, throwing the printed photo in my hand hard at his face. The sharp edge of the paper cut him, leaving a bloody mark there.
He was seething with anger, his face contorted as if he might lunge at me, but his demeanor abruptly shifted when he glanced at the contents of the photograph. His expression hardened, and with a swift motion, he crumpled the picture in his hand.
“So what if I'm with her?” he snapped, his voice sharp with defiance. “You have no right to pry into my life. Why are you acting crazy? I don't understand you.”
His words cut through the air like a blade, leaving me momentarily speechless. The accusation stung, but I knew there was more at stake than just my feelings. I needed answers.
Before I could gather my thoughts, he fixed me with a piercing glare. “Where are the berries?” he demanded, his tone betraying a mix of frustration and urgency.
I stood there, paralyzed by the realization sinking in. It was really him all along—the person I had suspected but hoped against hope was innocent. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably as I screamed at him, “Why did you tell my mother go pick berries on a rainy day! She has been so good to you. How could you do that to her!”
My husband fell silent after hearing my words and said harshly, “If it weren't for your mother treating me so well, I would have divorced a crazy woman like you long ago!”