The Truth I Wasn’t Supposed to See
That afternoon, I entered the house quietly.
The living room was empty.
But outside, I could hear laughter—my mother and sister enjoying themselves with guests.
Then I heard something else.
Water.
Plates clattering.
I followed the sound to the kitchen.
And there…
I saw my wife.
Standing alone.
Washing a mountain of dishes.
Her clothes worn.
Her hands soaked.
Her body tired.
And her eyes… filled with quiet tears.
There were supposed to be maids.
I was paying for them.
But instead…
My wife had become one.
