Knowing that the husband who had been on his hands and knees for four years was secretly raising b/oh; and she is still pregnant; Who, I rushed to the place with the intention of making a sense. But when I saw with my own eyes that he gently “healed” his mistress in front of the door of the motel room, and carried a whole carton of pregnant milk for her in his hand, even though my heart hurt as much as anyone else’s, I still stood still. Do not disturb. No crying. I turned around and drove safely back home. That night, I opened the safe, took all the money I had accumulated for a long time, and invited my friends to eat and drink and beautify for a whole day, as if to reward myself for my alertness. Picking him up, I hugged him to sleep and told myself: in two days, my mother and daughter will travel, away from all the noise. But unexpectedly, that night, my husband suddenly received a news message…

The man I used to call my husband – the head of my father for four years, the father of my child – was gently stroking another woman outside the door of the old motel room. His hand was still carrying a carton of pregnant milk. At that moment, my whole world froze… But I didn’t make a fuss. I turned the car around and slowly left. Unexpectedly, that night, he received the news of a lightning strike again…

My name is Huong, 28 years old, living in Hanoi. Four years ago, I met Minh – a guy with a bright face, a skillful talker, working as an accountant in a construction company. We fell in love for nearly two years and then got married, not too noisy, not dreamy. When I was pregnant with baby Bong, I quit my job at the bank and stayed at home to take care of my children. Minh said: “I just stay at home and take care of my children, let me take care of money.” I believed him.

Four years have passed, and I have fulfilled the shoulders of a wife and a mother. I get up early in the morning to cook, clean the house, and wait for my husband to come home to eat in the evening. Sometimes, Minh came home late, I just waited, didn’t dare to bother. He said that he was busy receiving guests and works, I nodded my head in belief. It is said that smart women do not search their husbands’ phones. I’m that kind of woman, thinking that trust is the foundation of marriage.

Until one day, I accidentally saw a supermarket bill in his pants pocket – a bill for pregnant milk, tonics, women’s clothes in size L. I was not pregnant. He also did not have any close sisters. Women’s hunches are never wrong.

I began to watch quietly. Several times I lied about going on a business trip, I hired a motorbike taxi to follow me. Finally, I found the address of the room he visited regularly every week.

And then, one afternoon, when he was in kindergarten, I came to the place.

The hostel is located in Dinh Cong area, in a small, sagging alley. I didn’t knock on the door, just stood behind a nearby tree. The door opened, Minh got off the motorbike, carrying a carton of pregnant milk and a bag of fruit. He knocked at the door, and a young girl—about twenty-five years old, with a bulging belly—came out.

Minh bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. They laughed at each other. He rubbed her belly, whispered something, and then they both went into the house. I could hear the door rattling clearly.

My heart was like someone was suffocating. Anger erupted but… I didn’t rush in. I don’t make a noise like jealousy scenes on the internet. I just stood still, my hands tightened on the steering wheel, and then quietly turned the car.

When I got home, I opened the safe, took out all my savings—the money I had quietly set aside, in case an incident happened. I texted my close friend group:

“Let’s go eat, drink, and get your hair done tonight. I’m invited. I need to be beautiful. You need to be awake.”

No one in the group asked much. We ate seafood, drank cocktails, laughed like crazy. I wash my hair, dry my hair, do my nails, massage my shoulders and neck. Every time the staff asked: “What occasion did you do?”, I just laughed: “Beauty to prepare for a new life.”

At night, I hugged my child to sleep, listening to the sound of him breathing evenly. This kid is the only reason I don’t get mad. I can’t let him see his mother break down.

Two days later, I booked a plane ticket to Da Nang – me and my child. The trip was unexpected, no one was informed. I plan to think everything through by the beach, to decide: keep or let go.

But that night, when I was folding my clothes, my phone rang. Minh’s number. I hesitated and picked up the phone.

His voice gasped:

“Xiang… Where are you? Brother… I beg you to go home urgently. Something happened…”

I replied coldly:

“What’s the matter? I’m not free.”

“Linh… the Spirit of it… lost… in the afternoon, while sleeping. The doctor said that he had acute preeclampsia. I didn’t expect… I didn’t expect it…”

I stood dumbfounded. Linh – her husband’s mistress – died; .

Minh cried like a child. In my mind, the image of him pampering her only 48 hours ago appeared.

I don’t know if it’s retribution or fate. I only know, what then made me face the truth even more fiercely.

That night, I sat in the dark, my hand still holding my phone, my heart beating chaotically. On the other end of the line, Minh cried silently. I didn’t know whether to be angry, to pity, or to be happy that God had helped me “solve” that woman.

The loss of a human life, whether it is worth it or not, is the end of a living being. Linh – my husband’s mistress – died of preeclampsia. Just two days ago, I saw her rubbing her stomach and smiling at Minh, and now she is lying still in the morgue.

I didn’t ask any more questions. Hang up.

I didn’t go to the funeral. Do not send wreaths. Don’t cry. I just hugged my child and went to the airport as planned – my mother and daughter still went to Da Nang.

But that trip is no longer a relaxing trip. It was an escape.

Minh called me many times. I didn’t answer the phone. After three days, he sent me a long message, begging me to go home.

“I have no one left. Linh’s family poured everything on his head. They told him to force her to get pregnant and then abandon her, refusing to get married, not bringing her back. They sued him. The company also knew about it, he was suspended. You’re all gone, Huong…”

I read every word, my heart did not ripple.

In the past, I always thought that men had an affair because of weakness, because their wives were too busy, because of heavy responsibilities… But now I see clearly: You have a choice. He chose to cheat, choose to raise his mistress, choose to betray. And now he has to pay the price.

I don’t want to see you. I didn’t want to hear his voice pleading.

I took my child out for 5 days. Bong was still a child, he didn’t understand anything. But he hugged me more, or asked:

“Mom, why don’t you laugh anymore?”
I smiled wryly:
“I’m growing up. It hurts a little when you grow up, and then it will be fine.”

Back in Hanoi, I rented a small apartment in Cau Giay. The house we left to Minh – considered to return the place that used to be a home, is now a bad memory.

I submitted my application to work again. Luckily, a friend introduced me to an in-house accountant position at a cosmetics company. The work is not too stressful, the salary is just enough to support the mother and daughter.

I began to come back to life.

Every day passes not easily. At one point, lying in the middle of the night, I remembered the wedding day, remembering his eyes looking at me under the white chiffon scarf, my heart ached. But I didn’t allow myself to be weak for long. Because I used to be meek, I used to be resigned—and it was that resignation that gave him the opportunity to betray.

Minh still tried to get in touch. Sending alimony, sending gifts to my children, sometimes standing in front of the gate just to watch my children from a distance. But I am no longer the Huong of 24 years old. I am the fragrance of the present – a mother, a woman who has stepped out of the darkness with her own feet.

One day, Minh stood in front of my house all morning, when I had just taken my child home from school. He was thin, emaciated, and his clothes were wrinkled.

He asked:

“Can you forgive me?”

I looked at him, and then said softly:

“It is possible to forgive, but not to come back.”

“But I’ve lost everything, just me and you…”

I laughed – a sad but very real smile:

“Then hold on to me. I’m no longer in ‘mine’.”

A year later, I gradually settled things down. Bong is bigger, good at studying, agile. I joined single mother groups, learned more financial skills, and opened an online cosmetics store. Life is still hard, but free and fresh.

I realized: Women don’t need men to be happy. Moreover, there is no need for the traitor to return to “correct the mistake”.

One afternoon, when I was packing, I received a message from an anonymous account:

“Can you marry Linh? If Linh is still alive… I’ve already had a wedding ceremony.”

I was silent. It’s Ming.

Maybe he was still pushing. Still obsessed with the death of his mistress. But it was his choice. And I – I chose my own path.

Happiness does not lie in keeping men. Happiness lies in knowing when to let go to save yourself.

I used to be betrayed. It hurt so much that I wanted to scream. But I walked through. Not because I was strong – but because I had no choice but to be strong.

And I’m – now – happy in my own way.