He Lied About Abroad, I Found His Local Family

Chapter 2 The Wedding Invitation

Friday morning, I prepared breakfast for Zara and helped check her schoolbag before she left.

"Don't forget your friend's birthday gift." I slipped the wrapped art set carefully into the side pocket of her backpack. "And don't kick your blanket off when you sleep tonight."

"Okay, Zara!" Zara stuffed fried eggs into her mouth, her cheeks puffed up like a little squirrel. "You're the best!"

I gently patted her head while my heart turned colder and colder inside my chest. This was the child I had spent an entire year caring for like family. And now, that innocent smiling face felt like a dull blade slowly carving into my heart.

After dropping Zara off at school, I immediately texted my supervisor and requested the day off.

Then I waited outside the school gates wearing a mask and baseball cap, hidden in a secluded corner with a clear view of the entrance.

At exactly 3:20 in the afternoon, children poured out of the school like birds escaping their cages.

I spotted Zara instantly among the crowd. She stood near the gate wearing her pink backpack while eagerly looking around for someone.

A few moments later, a white SUV slowly pulled up in front of her. The passenger-side window rolled down, revealing a woman with long hair smiling warmly as she waved at Zara.

Zara's face lit up immediately. She ran over happily and climbed straight into the back seat.

My hand clenched so tightly inside my coat pocket that my nails dug painfully into my palm.

I raised my arm and flagged down a taxi without taking my eyes off the SUV making a slow U-turn ahead.

"Follow that white SUV," I told the driver quietly. "But don't get too close."

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror knowingly.

"Catching a cheating husband?" He sounded far too experienced with this kind of thing.

Then he grinned faintly and started the engine. "Buckle up. I won't lose them."

The SUV drove straight to a beautifully decorated restaurant in the city center.

I lowered the brim of my cap and followed them inside from a distance before quietly taking a secluded booth diagonally behind them.

"Yasmin, I want the little bear cake!" Zara's cheerful voice rang clearly through the restaurant.

"Okay," the woman replied softly with a smile. "Then we'll order the biggest one for our little princess."

Miles looked over at her immediately, his expression impossibly gentle.

"What do you want to eat?" he asked softly. "You're eating for two now. You need to take better care of yourself."

My entire body went numb. Through the gaps between the decorative plants, I could see his hand resting carefully against the woman's stomach while he smiled at her with a tenderness I hadn't seen in a very long time.

"When is the baby coming out to play with me?" Zara asked curiously.

"In about four months," Yasmin replied as she stroked Zara's hair affectionately. "Then you'll officially become an auntie."

Then she smiled again. "Oh, and your brother and I are getting married next week. Do you want to be our flower girl?"

"Yes! I want to wear a princess dress!" Zara bounced excitedly in her seat.

Then Miles finally spoke again. "We still need to figure out an excuse for Zara…"

"Miles," Zara asked innocently, "why don't you just tell Zara the truth? She's such a good person."

The atmosphere at the table instantly stiffened.

"Kids don't understand these things," Miles replied awkwardly after a pause. "You'll understand when you're older. Here, eat your cake."

I sat motionless behind them, untouched lemonade resting in front of me. The ice inside had completely melted. Condensation slid slowly down the glass like the cold ache spreading through my chest.

The words wedding, baby, and next week crashed through me one after another, completely shattering the last fragile illusions I had still been desperately holding onto.

I secretly took several photos on my phone.

Before they finished dinner, I quietly left the restaurant first.

The sunlight outside felt painfully harsh against my eyes. I crouched beside the roadside and dry-heaved uncontrollably for a long time, but my stomach was already empty. Nothing came out.

By the time I returned home, Martha was awake and struggling to reach for the water glass beside her bed.

I hurried over instinctively to help her, my movements still as careful and gentle as always, as though nothing inside me had collapsed at all.

"Zoe," Martha murmured weakly as she looked at me, "you don't look very well. Are you too tired?"

"I'm okay," I replied with a forced smile. "Maybe I'm just catching a cold."

Then I tucked the blanket around her more securely. "Grandma, what do you want for dinner tonight? I can make steamed egg custard for you."

"You should rest too," she said softly. "Don't wear yourself out."

I only shook my head before walking into the kitchen.

While the egg custard steamed quietly on the stove, I leaned against the counter and searched for a private investigator on my phone.

The moment the call connected, I spoke calmly enough to surprise even myself. "I need everything. My husband's whereabouts over the past year. Information about that woman. How they met. How long they've been together. I want every detail."

After hanging up, I turned on the faucet and slowly slid down against the kitchen cabinets until I was sitting on the cold floor.

Only then did I finally allow myself to cry, silent tears streaming uncontrollably down my face as I covered my mouth tightly to keep from making a sound.

Over the past year of caring for Martha, I had learned how to break down quietly. Even my pain had become careful and restrained.