My husband is a virtual wife and a mother, and I’m not sure if I can do it.

That night, the rain did not stop. The little house at the end of the soggy alley, only the creeping light was left from the window. Mr. Nam sat motionless in a chair, a burnt cigarette in his hand. On the table was the phone showing a green dot – where his wife, Ms. Huong, said she was in her hometown caring for her sick mother.

But that bright dot is located in the heart of the city center, right next to the riverside motel. From night to day, it still doesn’t move.

Nam’s eyes were red, and his heart was filled with doubt. She called and texted but her husband didn’t answer. He was almost overwhelmed by the sadness that surrounded him.

The wife she once trusted — Ms. Huong is gentle, gentle, always saying “You’re the only one I know” — is now making her suspicious?

Around 11:00 p.m., Nam decided he couldn’t sit still anymore. He ran out of the house and rushed into the pouring rain. The roads were empty, only the sound of tires cutting through the water was loud. His heart was pounding, his heart was filled with vague fear—fear of the truth.

When he reached a small alley near the embankment Nam turned off the engine and stopped about a hundred meters from the motel. A sea of red light flickered in the distance and reflected a faint streak of light.

He stood there, shivering with cold, but his heart was even colder. He called a close friend – Hung – who works as a police officer in the region.
Her voice rose to a high level,
“Hold on… I am in need of your help. I’m scared… I’m afraid my husband is here.”

Just fifteen minutes later, Hung was there with two teammates. They conduct administrative inspections by process, because that area is notoriously complex, there are a lot of “hard to tell” cases.

Nam stood outside, his hands clenched, his eyes following the flashlight of the police force moving through the suite. Someone knocked on the door. A man opened the door, his face flushed, his clothes torn. Behind him – Huong – was trembling and hurrying wrapped in a towel, his face pale.

It all seemed to fall apart in front of Nam’s eyes. She walks over, her eyes blank, her mouth smiling:
“Tell me, is this the one who takes care of my mother?”

The incense bowed, the tears mixed with the rain. He couldn’t say a word. The other man quickly covered his face and stopped to make a record. With the flashing lights, everything is clear, exposing the naked truth that no one wants to believe.

The police acted swiftly and in accordance with procedures. There was no screaming, no jealousy, just harsh silence. In fact, when it was illuminated by light, there was no need to say anything.

Huong was taken to headquarters to work, Nam was also invited to testify. He sat quietly, looking at the record in front of him – every word like a knife carved into his heart: “Found two suspicious subjects in the motel…”

She didn’t cry, she didn’t speak. Hung – his friend – looked at him and sighed:
– “I’m sorry. I know you don’t deserve to be in this situation.”

Nam just replied softly:
“No, I have to thank you. At least… I don’t have to doubt it now.”

Three days later, it was all over the place. Huong’s name was mentioned in sighs and pitiful glances. She was detained for further investigation because another man – who was her ex-boyfriend – had a criminal record for cheating.

Nam sounds like someone who has lost his soul. He quit his job for a few days, just stayed indoors, looked at the wedding picture hanging on the wall and put it down.
Her mother – a gentle woman – could only cry. She loved her daughter very much, but she also hurt her daughter.
– “Nam, she’s my daughter’s mother after all. Don’t make a fool of yourself.”

He nodded, but his eyes were lifeless.

On the day Huong was released, he approached her. He was thin, his face skinny.
– “You… Give me a chance.”

Nam looked up, his voice as cold as steel:
“Chance? I had a chance. The chances are when you believe me, when I call and you don’t answer, when I’m waiting for you all night in the rain. Today, it’s all over.”

With tears in her eyes, she fell to her knees and said,
“You made a mistake. I didn’t expect it to go that far. I’m just going to have to wait and see what happens, who would have thought…

Nam interrupted:
– “I don’t need to explain. Because if I were honest, I wouldn’t have chosen that path. What I need now isn’t an excuse—it’s the respect I’ve stomped on.”

He turned around and left her in the pouring rain. Huong’s scream was mixed with the sound of rain, echoing through the small alley.

Later that night, Nam filed for divorce. He didn’t go to court, he just signed the paper and let the lawyer complete the procedure. She ceded all of her property to her husband, retaining sole custody of her four year old daughter.

The following month, he moved his job to the North. The old house was sold, ending a sad chapter.

Three years later, Nam became the captain of the criminal police team. Once on a business trip, he came across a case related to an online fraud line – on the list of suspects, he saw the name Pham Duy – Huong’s former lover. He was arrested while in hiding, and his testimony reads as follows:

“I use the love of a married woman to make money. He thought I was still in love, but honestly I just had to take advantage of it. I regret it…”

Nam finished reading, and fell silent. As it turned out, Huong not only betrayed him – but was also the victim of another lie.

That night, he sat alone in his office, outside the window pouring rain. He sighed. In his heart, there was no anger, only sadness.

He whispered,
“Sometimes, the traitor is also betrayed. But the worst thing… I am still the one who has lost faith.”

A few weeks later, he received an unnamed letter. Inside was just an old picture—a happy family photo, and trembling words on the back:

“I’m sorry. Maybe you won’t be able to forgive me for the rest of your life. But no matter what, I know, there was someone who once loved me with all faith.”

Nam folded the picture and put it in his purse. He looked out the window – where the rain had stopped, the moonlight shining on the wet street. The story
was over, no one had won, no one had lost – only the wounds of people who had lost each other for a minute of vulnerability.

And somewhere in Nam’s heart, she still remembers her best friend’s old saying:

“In marriage, the truth, as painful as it may be, is better than a sweet lie. Because the moment you have to ask the police to trust the person you love, that love… is long dead.”

NOTE: This story is entirely fictional, not based on any real events or individuals. The goal: to exploit psychology and social marginalization to deliver a humane message, warning of the tragedies that lurk behind everyday life. We do not support any regional, gender, religion or class prejudice. Embrace it with understanding – not prejudice.