I handed her a piece of paper that devastated my husband’s entire family.
After three years of childless marriage, my mother-in-law brought her husband’s mistress to live with them.
Arjun and I had been married for three years. Our relationship remained strong, but the joy of parenthood never came. My mother-in-law, Doña Kamala, a traditional woman from Mexico City, always placed great importance on continuing the family line.
At every meal, she called me “useless” and “incapable of having children,” even though Arjun did everything he could to protect me. Those words pierced me like knives, forcing me to hide my face in tears as I ate.
One rainy afternoon, when my mother-in-law brought home a young woman named Meera, with a large belly, everything came to a head. Calmly, she announced:
“This is Meera; she will live here from now on.” The blood of Arjun, the eldest son of this family, runs through her veins.
Arjun was stunned, and I was speechless. It was as if my entire world had crumbled before my eyes. My mother-in-law told me to treat Meera like a sister and to take care of that “precious womb.” Arjun looked at me with guilt, but he didn’t have the courage to confront his mother.
I couldn’t bear the humiliation. Living under the same roof as the woman who had stolen my happiness, and seeing her pregnant with my husband’s child, was beyond my control.
That night, I packed a few things, left my wedding ring on the table, and left quietly. With tears in my eyes, I told myself I had to forget everything and start over.
One Year Later – A Twist of Fate
One year later, my life had completely changed. I got a new job in Monterrey, bought a small apartment, and, most importantly, I was expecting a baby.
One day, a twist of fate brought us together again. In a familiar café in Mexico City, I unexpectedly ran into Arjun and my mother-in-law. He looked visibly tired.
I walked in, my belly now too prominent to hide.
My mother-in-law stared at me, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open:
“You… you… your belly…”
Arjun looked at me, his eyes filled with confusion, a mixture of pity and surprise.
I just smiled—a smile of relief and triumph. I gently placed a piece of paper on the table.
The truth was revealed.
It was the result of the DNA test for Arjun and Meera’s unborn child. In large letters, it read:
“Father-child relationship: No.”
They were both stunned. My mother-in-law trembled, and Arjun turned pale.
I pulled out another piece of paper—the results of a test from two years ago:
“Conclusion: Abnormal sperm count, inability to conceive naturally.”
What the doctor had diagnosed Arjun with was true. I had kept it a secret so he wouldn’t worry or feel guilty.
My mother-in-law and Arjun stared at the two pieces of paper, their hands trembling and their eyes filled with tears. Doña Kamala slumped in her chair, and Arjun rested his head on the table, pale.
They had judged me and abandoned me for a truth they themselves didn’t know.
A Final Farewell
I, on the other hand, carried an angel with me—the blood of the man who had loved me unconditionally for the past year.
I stood up, left the café, leaving behind the people I once called family.
There was only peace in my heart. I knew I had won—not through revenge, but by living a happier, stronger life.
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