Chapter 2 of I Lost My Husband To Her Joke, I Returned Reborn

“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?

I set my hands firmly on my hips, pointed straight at Veda, and declared loudly, “So what? Just because there’s money in my home, I need to help raise your son’s child? Where does that leave my brother and sister-in-law, should they call me sister, or call me mother in the future?”

This was the first time I had ever talked back to Veda, and for a moment, she stood there, dumbfounded.

Then, with a resentful mutter, she said, “Wasn’t I just joking? Besides, don’t TV dramas always say that if you have a son, then a daughter is only icing on the cake? But if you only have a daughter, then it’s nothing at all!”

I didn’t back down. I still spoke loudly, “To you, a daughter is nothing. But to my in-laws and my husband, she is everything. You yourself are what they call a money-loser, but don’t drag my daughter into it, my daughter is a princess!”

My words lit a fire in Veda’s chest.

She couldn’t even wait for the grab ceremony. She lashed out, screaming, “And you still dare to argue! Rocco and his parents treat you so well, yet you ran around with all sorts of men, making Rocco raise another man’s child! You’re utterly ungrateful!”

3

As soon as Veda’s words ended, the lively birthday banquet turned deathly still. Even the servers and emcees froze in place, scandals like this were not something they stumbled upon every day.

Everyone’s gaze fell on me, branding me as a shameless woman. After all, who would imagine a mother fabricating such filth about her own daughter?

Yet this was Veda’s true nature. Her favorite pastime was making such so-called jokes, no matter the occasion, jokes that cut instead of amused.

I recalled my childhood. While I bathed, she would suddenly scream as though she had fallen, crying for help. In my panic, I would dash out unclothed, only to find her waiting by the door, perfectly fine, phone raised, laughter trembling on her lips.

“Child, why aren’t you wearing clothes? I was just on a video call with my colleagues. Come, say hello to your uncles and aunties!”

I had been so furious I nearly fainted, but she turned to my dad and brother and said with a straight face, “I was only joking, testing to see how much she cared for me. How could I know she’d be so careless, running out without clothes?”

Later, she apologized and even bought me a pretty white dress. But when I wore it out, people’s stares followed me everywhere. Finally, a teacher pulled me aside into the bathroom.

“Andie, your period started, didn’t you notice?”

That was when I discovered the truth. The back of the dress had been deliberately smeared with red paint by Veda.

I ran home in utter breakdown, only to see Veda smiling.

“I saw you were unhappy, so I just wanted to tease you a little. Why are you angry again?”

My dad and my brother laughed so hard they nearly toppled over.

“You can’t blame your mom for that, who told you not to check your clothes before wearing them?”

“Right, Mom meant well. Hurry and apologize to your mother!”