I'm a traditional wife.
Raised that way from the start. A good woman listens to her husband, gives him children, keeps the family whole.
So when my husband brought home his first love—his mistress—and informed me they had an illegitimate son together, I made a decision.
I drove out that very night to bring the boy home myself.
“Come home with me.”
“My husband's rich. I'll spend his money raising you.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I want you to like me.”
Being a stepmother is never easy.
“Then can I kiss you?”
“I'm a traditional woman—I can't say yes to that. But a mother can say yes to her son.”
He stared at me. ：“You play it this wild?”
Later, I took his hand, walked up to my husband and his first love, and said：“All that matters is the four of us living well together.”
……
“We've been married eighteen years, but Patsy Fox is the one I've always loved.”
“The one who isn't loved is the real other woman.”
I looked at the man standing in front of me, Edgar Delgado, and the woman in his arms with that taunting look in her eyes.
I pressed a hand to my chest and let the tears slip down in silence.
Patsy let out a thin scoff：“Who's that little performance for? A woman your age crying is just ugly. You really think a man's going to feel sorry for you?”
I turned and glanced at the mirror beside me.
The woman in the glass was slender, her bare face flawless, her eyes rimmed red, two teardrops still clinging to her long lashes. She looked beautiful.
Patsy really had no taste.
Seeing me drift, Patsy only got angrier. She stepped forward and gripped my shoulders, her voice turning shrill.
“Edgar and I were together more than ten years ago—your wedding night, he was in bed with me. One time was all it took and I was pregnant, not like you, all these years and still a hen that can't lay a single egg.”
I looked at Edgar, disbelief plain on my face.
He gave a quiet nod：“Yes. That's right. We have a child.”
“But don't worry. As long as you don't make a scene, the title of Mrs. Delgado is still yours.”
I bit down hard on my lip.
Then let out a quiet breath：“Understood.”
My husband had been cheating on me. He had an illegitimate son with another woman.
But what was I supposed to do?
I'm a traditional wife.
Everything I'd been taught since childhood was how to be a good one.
Listen to your husband. Whatever he says is right.
Give him children. Keep the family together, complete and whole.
I ran my hand over my flat stomach, the faint lines of muscle still visible beneath my palm.
All these years of marriage, and I was already forty. I still hadn't given Edgar a single child.
I really wasn't a qualified wife.
“I'll make it up to you.”
Ours was an arranged marriage between powerful families.
To secure his position in the Delgado family, Edgar married me fresh out of college, all so he could tie himself to the Mason name.
As a husband, he'd been nearly impossible to fault over the years.
Paycheck turned over on time every month.
An unlimited black card for me to swipe however I pleased.
Carefully chosen gifts for every anniversary, every holiday, every birthday.
Except for today, when he walked in with another woman and a child.
Until now, everyone who knew us called him the model husband.
I gave a flat “mm” and went back to my room.
I locked myself in there for the rest of the day.
When Edith came up with my dinner tray, I asked：“Edith, have I really been that bad a wife?”
Her face softened with something she couldn't quite hide：“Ma'am, you mustn't wear yourself out grieving over him.”
