Chapter 2: The Boy with His Father's Smile
Part 2 ⬇️
For a moment, neither of us moved.
The rain tapped against the taxi windows.
The driver kept his eyes forward like he hadn't heard a word.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
My voice came out steadier than I felt.
She shook her head slowly.
Her hands were trembling.
"I mean..." She stopped.
Swallowed.
"He told me his wife didn't love him anymore.
That she'd checked out years ago."
"I am his wife," I said quietly.
"I know." She looked down at the phone again.
"But there's something else."
"Show me."
She hesitated.
Then she turned the screen toward me.
It wasn't just a photo of him.
It was a photo of him...
and a child.
A little boy.
Maybe four years old.
Dark eyes.
His father's smile.
"He told me that was his nephew," she whispered.
My chest went cold.
We don't have children.
We tried for years.
He told me he couldn't.
"How long?" I managed to say.
She looked at me.
Her eyes were wet now.
"Three years," she said.
"The boy is almost four."
The taxi had stopped at my street.
Neither of us moved to get out.
Then my phone rang.
His name was on the screen.
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What she found out when she answered that call shattered everything she thought she knew.
Click the link below to read the full story — the truth is more painful than either woman expected.
