I understood her reaction. No mother wants to believe her son is a despicable human being.

But I had prepared too thoroughly for this moment. I opened the handbag on my lap and took out the thick, neatly organized folder of documents.

I threw it hard onto the center of the banquet table. The thud of the paper hitting the glass was dry and final.

“The proof you wanted to see, Mother, I’ve printed it all out right here. From the messages about their OB/GYN appointments to the screenshots of the bank transfers, it’s all here.”

I turned to the crowd and began to explain every detail, my voice steady so that all the relatives could hear.

“For the past three months, while I was at home suffering from morning sickness, your son got back together with a woman named Chloe, his first love. This woman was divorced, pregnant with another man’s child, and had been kicked out of her home. And then your son swooped in, promising to raise the child and take responsibility for them.”

I flipped to the second page.

“Here are the bank records. In just three months, he secretly sent her a total of $15,000. That money is our family’s blood-and-sweat money I scrimped and saved for my own child.”

I pointed a finger at a page with a brightly colored printout of a message.

“On page five, you’ll see where he calls his mistress the most important person in his life. He said I was just an obstacle that needed to be cleared for their union. And the grand finale was three days ago, when he emptied our joint savings to pay for that woman’s delivery costs and booked this restaurant to play the part of a loving husband.”

My father-in-law picked up the documents with a trembling hand. His eyes scanned the cruel messages and the undeniable transfer records.

His face turned crimson with rage. He grabbed a glass from the table and smashed it on the floor.

Pointing at Daniel’s face, he unleashed a torrent of curses.

“You worthless piece of filth. I have no son like you. How dare you bring such shame upon this family?”

My mother-in-law completely broke down. She buried her head in her arms on the table and began to sob, unable to believe that the son she had praised so highly was such a cruel fraud.

The relatives started murmuring amongst themselves. The same people who had been praising Daniel moments before now shot him looks of contempt and whispered to each other.

My own father, who had been sitting quietly at a side table, slowly stood up. The old man’s face was filled with pity for his daughter, but his expression was firm.

He walked over to me gently, patted my shoulder, and then looked my father-in-law straight in the eye. My father’s voice was low and gravelly, but resolute.

“Sir, you know the whole situation now. My daughter did not marry into this family to be subjected to this kind of humiliation. Since things have come to this, I’m taking my daughter home, and we will be filing for divorce. We will take our granddaughter and raise her well.”

I looked at my father, my eyes burning, but I refused to cry. I had done the most important thing.

The truth was out, and the party had officially imploded amidst the chaos and humiliation of my in-laws. My mother quickly gathered our things and took Lily in her arms.

My father led the way, clearing a path for us. I picked up my handbag and followed my parents resolutely, leaving Daniel to the mess he had created.

As we exited the restaurant, I heard frantic footsteps behind us. Daniel came running out into the lobby.

His face, drenched in sweat, was pale with terror. He blocked our path and tried to grab my hand, but my father swatted his hand away.

“Get out of the way. Don’t you dare block my daughter’s path. Get lost before I call security.”

Daniel ignored my father’s shouts and dropped to his knees in the middle of the lobby. The polished man from 15 minutes ago was gone, replaced by a pathetic, tear-streaked wreck.

He clasped his hands together and begged in a trembling voice.

“Jennifer, please hit me. Curse me. I don’t care. Just please don’t divorce me. I was wrong. I was a complete fool. I was tricked by that woman. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ll cut off all contact. I promise. I’ll be completely devoted to our family. For the sake of our three years of marriage, please just give me one more chance. Please.”

I stopped and looked down at the man kneeling at my feet. I felt no pity, no hatred.

My heart was just empty and cold. I stepped closer to him and replied, my voice devoid of emotion.

“A chance? What right do you have to ask for a chance? Your biggest mistake wasn’t cheating or spending money on another man’s child. Your biggest mistake was treating me like a tool without feelings. You used me as a shield to hide your affair. You fed your mistress with my money, and you used my sacrifice as a stepping stone to decorate your own facade of a happy family. You never once respected me. The only person you’ve ever loved is yourself.”

Daniel looked up, about to make another excuse, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“The show is over, Daniel. I’m filing for divorce tomorrow. You’d better get ready to deal with the asset division and returning the $15,000 you sent that woman. Goodbye.”

I turned my back on him resolutely and walked towards the taxi my father was hailing. I opened the car door and got into the back seat with my mother and Lily.

As the car started to move, the image of the man crumpled in the hotel lobby grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely. I let out a long sigh of relief.

It felt as if I had just set down a massive burden. The road ahead might be difficult, but at least I no longer had to live with a liar.

The car took me to my parents’ single-story house with its red tiled roof a little outside the city. Stepping through the familiar iron gate and smelling the faint scent of the wood pile in the yard, I finally felt safe.

My father carried my things to my old room while my mother bustled around preparing a bottle for her granddaughter. The unconditional care of my family felt like it was melting away the fatigue that had built up all day.

The first few days passed peacefully, filled with the busyness of child care. But when night came and darkness enveloped the small room, I had to face reality.

I had been resolute when I tore off my husband’s mask, but I was still human, made of flesh and blood. When I was left alone with my tiny sleeping child, a sense of emptiness washed over me, squeezing my heart.

Sleepless nights followed. I would stare blankly at the ceiling, replaying the past over and over.

The moments we cooked dinner together. The memory of choosing dishes for our new apartment.

All my hopes for a normal family had been brutally crushed. I didn’t cry.

It felt as though all my tears had dried up the day I discovered that secret chat. But my body reacted with extreme fatigue.

I lost my appetite. Even at the dinner table my mother had so lovingly prepared, I would push food around my plate after a few bites.

In just two weeks, I lost 10 lbs. Seeing my gaunt face and the dark circles under my eyes, my parents were heartbroken.

My mother would secretly cry on the porch at night, but in front of me, she always put on a brave face to encourage me.

One early morning, I got up to make a bottle for the baby and saw my father in the corner of the yard fixing an old chicken coop. He turned to me and said in a calm but firm voice, “Jennifer, you have to get back up where you fell. Losing one bad husband isn’t the end of the world. Look at Lily over there. That child needs a healthy, happy mother. Your mom and I won’t force you to forget, but you have to take care of yourself first.”

Hearing my father’s words and seeing Lily’s bright smile in my mother’s arms, something inside me clicked. My father was right.

I couldn’t let the past ruin the future for me and my child. Emptiness couldn’t be filled with resentment or self-pity.

It could only be mended by taking care of myself.