To help make ends meet, my husband found me a job as a nanny.

The woman I worked for had a terrible temper. She ordered me around like a servant, and sometimes she outright insulted me.

But the pay was good, so I swallowed it all.

Every month, I handed my entire paycheck over to my husband to support his startup.

His business was just getting off the ground. We had nothing. But he was gentle with me, and even though life was hard and money was tight, I felt happy.

Until one day, my employer's son said to me：“Why do you have a picture of my dad on your phone? Are you a homewrecker?”

The woman I'd been serving for three years was my husband's mistress.

That boy was their son.

……

I was crouched on the floor picking up trash when my employer's son shoved me hard from behind.

I pitched forward into the garbage can, filth covering my hair and clothes.

I scrambled to my feet, furious：“Vincent Harding, what are you doing?!”

He was even more aggressive than I was, his voice ice-cold：“Call me Young Master!”

That title was something Anne Swanson had insisted on.

Even though I only worked during the day and didn't live in, I was still required to address Anne as "Ma'am" and her son as "Young Master."

It made me feel like an actual servant.

But the pay kept me quiet. I endured it.

Vincent held up my phone, jabbing his finger at the photo on my lock screen：“Why do you have a picture of my dad on your phone.”

“Why are you two so close together? You're a disgusting homewrecker. Get out of my house.”

I froze for a second, then almost laughed：“Are you joking? That's my husband.”

Vincent spat at me：“Bullshit. That's my dad.”

He pulled out his tablet, fuming, and shoved the screen in my face.

I glanced at it. My whole body went still.

It was my husband. Sebastian Harding.

A photo of him having dinner with Anne.

A photo of him, Anne, and Vincent, the three of them celebrating a birthday like a family.

A photo of him and Vincent building Legos together……

The room tilted. I sank into the chair behind me.

Vincent kicked me, grinning：“Let's see what you have to say now, homewrecker.”

My mind was a wreck.

So the husband I'd loved all this time had another family?

He always said the startup kept him busy, that he had to travel all over the country for work. Half the month, every month, he was gone.

Every time he came home, I felt sorry for him, working so hard.

Even when my own body ached from cleaning and scrubbing all day, I'd rub his shoulders, cook him a full dinner.

Lately he'd been short with me, impatient over nothing. I told myself it was just work stress. I tried to be understanding.

Looking at it now, I was a joke.

He could afford a house like this. He could afford a whole second family. He'd never been short on money.

He'd never been grinding through exhausting business trips. He'd been here, living his real life in luxury.

And I, like a fool, had come here to be his mistress's maid. Cleaning her floors. Serving her hand and foot.

My heart was shattering.

No wonder I'd never once met Anne's husband.

They'd kept him away from me on purpose.

I looked up at Vincent, numb.

His last name was Harding. Sebastian's last name was Harding.

How stupid was I, that I'd never once put that together.

Now that I really looked, the resemblance was unmistakable.

My phone buzzed. A message from Anne：“You can leave early tonight. Pack up and go home now. When I get back, I want the first thing I see to be my son, not the help. Don't come in for the next week. I'll let you know when to return.”

A few minutes later, I got a text from Sebastian：“Business trip. Gone for a week.”

I set the phone down without replying, poured myself a cup of tea, and sat on the couch.

I waited for them.

The three of us were overdue for a meeting.

All together.

The front door opened.

Vincent ran to Anne the second she stepped inside, throwing himself into her arms.

He pointed at me and said：“Mom, there's a homewrecker in our house.”

Anne hugged him, cooing：“A homewrecker? What are you talking about?”

Vincent pointed at me again：“Her! She's the homewrecker. She has pictures of Dad on her phone.”

Anne glanced at me, and her expression dropped instantly.

She tore into me without hesitation：“Do you not understand English? Didn't I tell you to leave early? What are you still doing here?”

“What, are you some kind of beggar? You won't budge unless someone throws you a few coins?”

I stayed in my seat and said coldly：“I'm waiting for my husband.”

Anne snapped：“You're out of your mind. Go wait for your husband at your own house.”

I kept my voice flat：“He doesn't come to my house. But he comes here.”

Anne's face stiffened.

Something shifted behind her eyes, and a smug little smile crept across her lips.

In that instant, I knew. She knew I was Sebastian's wife.

They'd let me work here on purpose. Let me be ordered around, talked down to, treated like a servant. All of it was deliberate humiliation.

Anne walked toward me, her voice dripping with mockery：“What's the point of waiting here? Even if he shows up, do you really think you can take him home?”

“A woman who isn't loved has no business sitting here waiting.”

That was when the front door opened again.

Sebastian walked in.

He was carrying a huge bouquet of roses and a cake box in his other hand.

Something bitter twisted in my chest.

In all the years we'd been married, Sebastian had never bought me a single flower. Never once planned anything for my birthday.

The few times I'd brought it up, he'd lecture me：“Vivian, we're not exactly rolling in money. What do we need flowers and cake for?”

“Don't let social media brainwash you. We need to save where we can. Living within our means is what matters. Stop daydreaming.”

Once, after one of his long “business trips,” I'd felt bad about how hard he was working and bought a cake.

Sebastian lost it. He threw the cake on the floor.

He said he'd rather go without than let me develop a habit of wasting money.

I cried for a long time that night.

It was our wedding anniversary. Sebastian had already forgotten.

Every rule he'd set for me didn't exist in this other home.

Our eyes met, and the color drained from Sebastian's face.

He dropped his gaze, fumbling, unable to look at me.

Anne strolled over with a grin and looped her arm through his：“Honey, this nanny won't leave. What should we do about her?”

Sebastian kept his head down and said nothing.

Anne shrugged：“Fine, let her stay then. She can serve our little family of three. Go make us dinner.”

When I didn't move, Anne's voice turned vicious：“Vivian, have you no shame? You'd rather stay here and play maid for us than walk out that door?”

I said coldly：“I'm not a maid.”

Anne sneered：“Then what are you? Every day you're here picking up after us, getting screamed at, too afraid to say a word back.”

“Actually, you're right. You're not a maid. Maids get paid. You've been doing this for free.”

“That thirty dollars a month I paid you? You handed every cent of it to Sebastian, didn't you?”

“But Sebastian hands all his money over to me. So when you think about it, I didn't spend a single cent. I just got myself a free maid.”

Anne tore into me without restraint. Sebastian never said a word.

Sometimes silence is permission.

Whatever was left of my heart went cold.

That was when Vincent shoved me hard and screamed：“Get out of my house!”

I stumbled back and fell in the hallway.

The door slammed shut behind me.

I brushed myself off, got up slowly, and walked downstairs.

It felt like something had been carved out of my chest.

It hurt. But somehow, I also felt lighter.

That was when my phone buzzed.

A text from Sebastian. Just one line：Babe, you've got it wrong. It's not what you think. Wait for me. I'll come out and explain.

I stared at the message and frowned. I had it wrong? There was some explanation?

A flood of desperate, ridiculous thoughts raced through my head：Maybe Vincent belonged to one of Sebastian's relatives? Maybe everything I'd just seen was some sick prank?

Because I truly could not accept that the man I'd loved all these years was a lying, cheating piece of garbage.

So I sat down on the steps, quietly, and waited for him to come out and explain.

I waited all night.

The sun came up. Sebastian never appeared.

I laughed, hollow and tired：“Vivian, you're so stupid. He played you again.”

I dragged myself home, dizzy and lightheaded, wanting to pack my things and leave.

Every piece of furniture in the apartment was something I'd bought, most of it secondhand.

The apartment itself was a run-down rental in a crumbling old complex.

It was shabby, but I had never minded. It felt like home, because this was the life Sebastian and I had built together.

Now……with the truth stripped bare, every single thing in this place mocked me.

I thought it over, then packed only a few changes of clothes. The rest of the junk wasn't worth taking.

One small bag on my shoulder. That was everything I owned.

I'd given Sebastian every dollar I ever made. I didn't own a single piece of jewelry.

The thought broke me, and I started crying again.

That was when the door opened.

Sebastian walked in, his face full of concern：“Vivian, why didn't you wait for me? I looked for you all night.”

I looked at him, letting every ounce of contempt show：“Sebastian, I sat outside your door all night. Where exactly did you look for me? In Anne's bed?”

His face twisted with embarrassment, and he changed the subject：“I brought you something.”

Cake and flowers. The things I'd never gotten from him.

Except most of the cake had already been eaten, and the flowers were wilting.

These were clearly last night's gifts to Anne, repackaged.

Sebastian, I couldn't even get a gift from you that wasn't someone else's leftovers?

When I didn't respond, he set the stuff down and sighed：“What happened last night... I really do have an explanation.”

I sat down：“What explanation? That Anne isn't your mistress? That Vincent isn't your son?”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment, then said in a low voice：“She and I... it was one night. I was drunk. It was an accident. I wasn't in my right mind. It was never intentional.”

“She got pregnant from that one time. That's how Vincent was born.”

“The child is innocent. I had to give him a real family.”

I let the scorn drip from every word：“So your big explanation is that you can't keep it in your pants?”

Sebastian looked me in the eye, dead serious：“Vivian, believe me. You're the one I love most.”