Deported His Mistress, Kept His Baby

Chapter 5: Long Time No See

I snapped my SIM card in half without a second thought, tossing the pieces into a roadside trash bin.

Vincent probably only remembered me—his lawful wife—when he realized no one had prepared dinner after his rendezvous with his trophy mistress.

Inside the cabin, my mother gripped my hand tightly. Her usually perfect makeup was smudged, and the silver strands at her temples shimmered under the harsh light. Her swollen eyes, red from crying, told me she hadn't slept all night.

"Mom..." My throat tightened.

But before I could say more, she shook her head.

Proud as ever, even her gaze wavered now.

Everything had happened so fast.

Father's business empire had crumbled overnight.

My marriage was in ruins.

We were all left to navigate this storm, trying to hold it together.

"Where are we going?"

"Your father may have..." Her voice cracked. "But he still has some old connections. One of his former comrades reached out and offered to take us in."

She rubbed the back of my hand. "But you..."

"Vincent Sinclair refuses to divorce me." I stared out at the dark clouds outside the window. "Let's settle down first. I'll file for it later."

When the plane landed, Uncle Brown and his family greeted us with warmth.

The lively old man boomed with laughter, his foreign wife standing proudly beside him.

"My son was supposed to come, but a last-minute project held him up," Uncle Brown explained.

Father simply clapped his old comrade on the shoulder. Some bonds didn't need words.

Uncle Brown's villa was spacious and bright, fully furnished with everything we needed.

After they left, we unpacked, working late into the night.

Exhausted, I collapsed onto the sofa, but then I remembered the life growing inside me.

Two days later, Father went to discuss business with Uncle Brown. Mother, too, pulled herself together and began looking for part-time work.

One decision from Vincent Sinclair had bankrupted my family.

Yet Father still worried about his unemployed staff, draining nearly all his remaining savings to help them.

On the day of my appointment, I went to the hospital alone.

After everything, at least my family was still with me. That was my greatest blessing.

A month later, I began job hunting.

A married woman with no work experience wasn't exactly in high demand in this city.

"It's fine," I told my reflection in the mirror.

Soon, I found a job at a restaurant, working in the kitchen.

The owner, a kind middle-aged man, assigned me to cleaning and dishwashing.

This was my first real job.

There was a strange sense of pride in seeing the spotless dishes I'd scrubbed.

Three months passed.

My hands were now covered in scars, the skin cracked and blistered from the harsh chemicals. It was something I never let my parents see.

This weekend was especially hectic.

Dragging a heavy trash bag to the back alley, I struggled before finally tossing it into the dumpster.

As I crouched to catch my breath, polished leather shoes suddenly appeared in my line of sight.

"Long time no see, Mrs. Sinclair."

That voice froze the blood in my veins.