Dear Husband, I'm tired of lying, good bye!

It was our second wedding anniversary. Two years of marriage with Dave—and I still felt the flutter every time I thought of him.

I sat by the window at our favorite restaurant, the one overlooking the city lights that always seemed to dance when night fell. I checked my phone for the fifth time, rereading the message I sent him two hours ago: “I’m here already. Don’t make me wait too long.”

The waiter approached, smiling politely. “Would you like to order now, ma’am?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. My husband’s on his way.”

At least, that’s what I believed. Then I saw someone walking toward me—heels clicking, red lipstick too bold for a quiet dinner like this. Liana. Dave’s secretary.

My smile faltered. “Liana? What are you doing here?”

She leaned slightly against the chair across me, a faint smirk on her lips. “Elisa, I’m sorry to disturb your night. Dave asked me to tell you he can’t make it. He’s at the hospital with Franco.”

My heart skipped. “Franco? What happened to him?”

“He got into an accident. Nothing too serious, but Dave had to rush there.”

I stood abruptly, the chair scraping the floor. “Why didn’t he tell me? He knows I’m close to Franco. Bring me to the hospital.”

Liana’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. She crossed her arms, her gaze glinting with mockery. “You’re really a fool, aren’t you?”

I froze. “What?”

She tilted her head, voice dripping with pity—or was it poison? “Don’t you find it strange? Every single time something happens to Franco, Dave drops everything for him. You, work, even himself.”

“Of course,” I said, forcing calm. “Franco’s his brother. His family.”

Liana chuckled under her breath. “Brother? Elisa, wake up. You really think he sees Franco that way?”

Her tone made my stomach twist. “What are you trying to say?”

She leaned in, her voice a whisper. “Franco isn’t his little brother. He’s his son.”

The words didn’t register at first. I blinked, confused, until she tossed a folded envelope onto the table. It slid toward me, stopping beside my untouched glass of wine.

“DNA test,” she said simply. “Since you’re so trusting, I figured you deserved to know.”

And then she turned, leaving me standing there, the world suddenly spinning out of place.

I opened the envelope with trembling hands. Two names stared back at me—Dave Morales and Franco Morales. The result: 99.99% probability of paternity.

No. That couldn’t be true.

If it were, Dave would’ve told me. He wouldn’t hide something like that. There had to be some mistake—Liana was lying. She had to be.

I grabbed my bag and ran out of the restaurant, ignoring the curious glances and the waiter’s call. The cool night air hit me as I rushed to my car. My hands shook so badly that it took me three tries to fit the key into the ignition.

All I could think of was Dave’s face. His smile. His promises. He said I was the only one. That there were no secrets between us.

But what if there were?

I drove to the hospital, my chest tightening with every breath. The parking lot was nearly empty when I arrived. I hurried inside, my heels echoing against the floor. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, too bright, too sterile.

“Excuse me,” I told the nurse at the counter. “Franco Morales—do you know which room he’s in?”

She looked up from her clipboard. “He’s in the east wing, third floor.”

“Thank you.”

I walked quickly, my pulse thundering in my ears. But as I reached the corner of the hallway, voices stopped me.

Familiar ones. Dave’s—and my mother-in-law, Sandra.

I froze just around the corner, their words sharp against the quiet corridor.

“You’re spoiling your brother too much,” his mother, Sandra, said in her clipped, disapproving tone. “That’s why he’s grown so arrogant. He doesn’t even respect us and is always asking about you.”

Dave’s sigh followed. “Well, what am I supposed to do? Of course, I want to spoil him because he is not my brother, Sandra. He’s my son.”

My heart stopped. So, it’s true?

I pressed my back against the wall, trying to breathe, but the air refused to move.

There was a beat of silence, and then his mother laughed—a cold, mocking sound I’d never heard from her before. “Your son? Say that again when the world actually knows it. You didn’t even tell Elisa about this. When are you going to? She loves you, don’t you think she would want to know about this?”

Dave’s voice dropped, weary but firm. “I won’t tell her. Never. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t either. If she finds out, it’ll destroy everything we’ve built.”

“Everything you’ve built, you mean,” his mother retorted.

“You know we need her,” Dave said sharply. “Her name, her connections—she’s one of the most respected anchors in the network. Our company benefits from that. That’s the only reason I married her.”

The hallway tilted. My fingers went numb as I clutched the wall for balance.

He kept talking, his tone almost casual. “Besides, she’s not exactly innocent. She lied about her background, too. She’s terrified that the truth about her family will ruin her career. That’s why I can control her. She won’t dare walk away, even if she learns everything… because she is aware that I can ruin her!”

A faint ringing filled my ears. My heart twisted painfully inside my chest.

I wanted to burst out, scream, demand the truth—but my voice was gone.

All I could do was stand there, invisible, listening as the man I loved shattered every illusion I had built around us.

The world I knew—our anniversaries, our laughter, the small gestures I thought were love—crumbled piece by piece.

And when I finally took a step back, I realized something: I didn’t even know who Dave really was anymore.

Or perhaps, I also don’t know myself anymore because I also lied just for his whole family to accept me.