I loved you.
I loved you for who I thought you were. I loved you for loving me back. I loved you for being the most amazing husband ever, but in the end, I guess it wouldn’t really matter, would it? You were not what I thought or loved.
It never really occurred to me. There had to be signs, I suppose. But wasn’t I the one who was madly in love? So much that the unexplained disappearances and calls after midnight never really struck me as anything odd.
The day I found out about your infidelity was probably not the worst day I had ever had. Wondering why? Because just the knowledge of it made every single day I had spent with you seem much more awful in comparison. I hated you for making me fall in love with you and I hated myself for loving you all the same.
I should probably have left you in the hospital that day, to die on your own. Who did you have after all? The family that had abandoned you or the wife whose soul you had mercilessly destroyed? Or the girl whom you loved, perhaps more than you had ever loved me, the girl who was dying with you! Karma works in mysterious ways. How many times had I not worried over your habit of driving so carelessly?
But I stayed with you.
Not because I loved you. Not because I wanted to see you die. But because of the child they had placed in my arms.
Your love child with the other woman.
Now let me tell you, I really did contemplate leaving him with you, to fend for himself, to live all of his life as a cursed orphan. But I did not.
I don’t know why.
The first few days were catastrophic. You were gone with your beloved. All I had to hold onto was the child, wailing from time to time, making me sick to my stomach. More than once my head had screamed the obvious: he wasn’t my responsibility to take.
But I cared for him all the same.
Now when I look back, I think it had more to do with my wish for a revenge than anything else.
Your son is my revenge.
How, you ask?
Because I have instilled the best of values in him. I have taught him the difference between good and bad. I have made sure he sees humanity before convenience and selfish pleasure.
He is nothing like you, love.
And that’s enough of a revenge for me, enough to be happy about.
At least I have spared another woman from going through what I had to go through.
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