During the 12 years of marriage, Hanh has never told the truth that she knows. Outsiders look at her and think she is lucky to have a successful husband, a house, a car, and obedient children. But only Hanh understood, her heart had died a long time ago.

The day she found out that her husband was having an affair, Hanh had just given birth to her second daughter for four months. That night, she woke up to make milk for her child, but she didn’t see her husband lying next to her. Walking through the office, Hanh saw him whispering a video call with a young girl. His voice was gentle and gentle, words that she had never heard in her entire life. Hanh stood there, her hands squeezing the milk bottle so tightly that her knuckles were white. But in the end, she quietly returned to her room, without saying a word.

Since then, he has continued that relationship, and then many more girls. Hanh knows it all. But she was silent. She didn’t fight jealousy, didn’t cry, didn’t blame. She just works hard, raises two children and saves her own money. Sometimes, when she listens to her friends talk about her family, she just laughs sadly: “I just live for you.”

He still gives her money every month, still takes her family on trips, still takes happy family photos and posts them on Facebook. And she, after those photos, returned to her own room, lying curled up until morning.

12 years passed, and his health suddenly collapsed because of terminal liver cancer. The disease came as fast as he used to be cold to her. Lying on the hospital bed, he was thin, his skin yellowed. Every time he opened his eyes, he only saw his wife sitting next to him, quietly wiping his body, putting every spoonful of porridge, pouring every potty of urine. She didn’t cry, nor did she blame. Her eyes were empty, frighteningly

calm.
The day he was about to die, his lover also came to visit. The girl was young, stylishly dressed, and walked into the hospital room with high heels that sounded cold in the middle of the corridor. But when she saw Hanh sitting by the bed, she stopped, then turned to leave. No one dared to compete with a woman who had been silent for 12 years, endured all kinds of bitterness, and still stayed to take care of her husband until the last moment.

He pursed his lips, calling his wife’s name. His voice was as weak as a thread:
“I… come here… Brother… sorry…

Hanh stood up, walked over, and gently lifted his head and placed it on the pillow. She looked at him, her eyes were still calm but deep down was a gloomy sky:
“What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow dry saliva:
“I know… I’m at fault… I’m sorry for everything… I still… love you… right?

Hanh smiled slightly. The smile faded like morning dew:
“Love you?

He nodded weakly, his eyes watery, his trembling hand holding her hand. In that moment, he thought he was still her whole world, still the man she was willing to sacrifice everything.

But Hanh bent down and whispered a sentence in her husband’s ear that he will never forget for the rest of his life:

– 12 years ago, the day I had an affair, I stopped loving you. I stayed… just so that my children would not be ashamed of their father. Don’t worry, I’m gone, I’ll tell my children that I’m a good husband and father… so that they don’t carry scars for the rest of their lives.

His eyes widened, and his already pale face was now even whiter. His breathing was heavy, and his hands trembled and clung to the sheets. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He wanted to say something, but his throat choked tightly. He had never thought that the woman he despised could be so strong and cruel. In the moment he was close to death, he realized that, in the past 12 years, she had never needed him.

Hanh pulled the blanket over his chest, wiping the tears from her husband’s face. Her voice was still as gentle as ever:

“Rest, it’s over.

He burst into tears, his lifeless eyes staring at the cold ceiling. Yes, it was really over. The woman he thought would never leave him all his life… turned out to have let go a long time ago.