I Lost My Husband To Her Joke, I Returned Reborn

Mom always loved to joke, no matter the occasion or place.

At my daughter’s first birthday banquet, she pulled out a fake paternity test report and, with tears in her eyes, cried to my husband.

“Although my daughter cheated on you and made you raise another man’s child, she has already promised me she will change!”

The entire hall instantly froze.

I tried my best to explain, but who would believe that a mother could speak such nonsense about her own child? My husband couldn’t accept it. He broke down on the spot and leapt to his death before my eyes.

When a life was gone, Mom finally pretended to apologize. “I was just joking. Who knew he would take it seriously?”

But my dad and younger brother only added fuel to the fire.

“Maybe he already suspected you, that’s why he believed it!”

“Exactly. If you hadn’t been unchaste yourself, who would believe such a joke?”

Despair swallowed me whole. Amid the curses of my in-laws and the condemning stares of everyone present, I staggered back step by step, lost my footing, and plunged from the tall building.

If I had another chance, I swore I would make Mom personally taste just how funny her joke truly was.

1

My daughter’s cries pulled me out of my dream. I blinked, staring blankly at her tear-streaked little face.

My husband, Rocco Craig, rubbed his eyes, then lifted her into his arms with practiced ease, murmuring comfort.

He turned to me with a smile. “Our daughter hasn’t been sleeping well lately. You’d better sleep in the second bedroom, so you won’t be disturbed and complain about dark circles tomorrow.”

A sharp buzz filled my head. Only when Rocco nudged me out of the master bedroom and I caught sight of the date on my phone did the truth sink in. I had been reborn.

Reborn one week before my mother, Veda, ruined everything with her so-called joke.

In just seven days, it would be my daughter’s first birthday banquet. We had reserved a hotel hall for the occasion. Yet during the so-called grab ceremony, Mom had casually placed a file envelope on the table.

“Baby, grab this one. If you grab this, you’ll know who your real father is.”

At first, I thought I had misheard her, my mind blank, my tongue forgetting to question it.

But Veda continued, speaking as if to herself.

“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?”