My Wife Killed My Father for Her Lover

My wife’s obsession with her first love’s inferior products caused my father to contract a terminal illness.

As I watched my father, clinging to life, my vision was clouded with rage, while my wife squandered my salary on her former lover’s schemes.

When I called her for emergency funds, she screamed back, “Your dad is just losing his life; if I don’t buy Chris’s products, he’s losing his dreams! How can you be so selfish?”

She had no idea how unselfish I was. I was truly facing a life without my father.

——

My father developed leukemia from using the counterfeit products sold by my wife’s first love.

Seeing my father, who had been my only companion for years, lying frail in a hospital bed shattered my heart.

But my wife, Grace, hadn’t visited him once since his hospitalization; instead, she stole his lifesaving money to support her former lover’s business.

I spent days and nights by my father’s side, bloodshot eyes straining as I called Grace to plead for help.

Just as I stepped out of the ward, I saw Grace, who had disappeared for two months, cozied up with another man to settle her hospital bills. The man was none other than her first love, Chris.

I could no longer hold back. I rushed over and grabbed her hand, “Grace, please save my dad. All our money is with you, as well as my salary card. Please just give it back to me…”

She hesitated for a moment, but Chris interjected, “Brett, what are you talking about? Our company’s mattresses are miraculous! Your dad would’ve been fine by now. Not to mention the nutritional products! I worked hard to leave those for Grace.

“Brett, I know you dislike me, but there’s no need to slander me out of jealousy.”

Hearing Chris’s words ignited my anger.

News reports had exposed his products as fakes. The high-calcium milk powder was covered in mold, and the miracle mattress reeked of formaldehyde. If you accidentally ripped it open, you’d find cheap down that looked like it was caked in duck droppings.

The doctor said it was because my dad was too frugal and secretly used these products that he contracted leukemia.

Yet, Grace, without a second thought, yelled at me, “Brett, you’re hopeless! You’re fabricating lies about your dad’s illness just to defame Chris. I’ve never seen such a man like you!”

“I didn’t–”

She cut me off impatiently, “Stop putting on a show. You’re disgusting.”

She shoved me down, stepping on my fingers as she walked away with Chris.

Even the pain in my hand couldn’t match the pain in my heart.

Watching them walk away together, I couldn’t help but remember how my dad had felt unwell after using Chris’s mattress.

I had urged him to go to the hospital for a check-up, but Grace insisted it was unnecessary and that Chris’s products were effective.

In the end, she spent all of my dad’s life savings and bought two more rounds of those products.

My dad, being frugal, listened to his daughter-in-law and obediently consumed them, never expecting his condition to suddenly worsen.

Later, Chris started selling calcium-enriched milk powder online, claiming it could cure all ailments. Behind my back, Grace took my salary to support his business.

I couldn’t understand why she would fall for that milk powder when the news had already exposed it as toxic.

Even when I begged her on my knees, she took all the family savings and vanished completely.

The next time I saw her, she was smiling and chatting with someone else, completely ignoring my sick dad.

I wiped my tears and walked into the hospital room.

There, my dad lay sickly on the bed, hooked up to various tubes, with only the readings on the machines confirming he was still alive.

The needle marks on the back of his hand had turned blue, and he had become so frail. When he saw me, he forced out a smile.

“Brett? Why are you just standing there?”

I managed a weak smile and replied, “Dad, I made chicken soup today. You have to eat plenty, okay?”

He squinted his eyes, about to say something, but suddenly, the situation took a turn for the worse. I watched helplessly as the readings on the machines dropped to zero.

The attending physician seemed to be saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear; my ears were ringing.

Everyone looked at me with pity, and they told me my dad had died. A white sheet was pulled over his head.

My vision blurred, my legs gave way, and a wave of nausea washed over me as I stumbled to my knees.

“Mr. Dawson? Mr. Dawson!”

The nurse caring for my dad helped me to a nearby chair, her eyes red as she tried to comfort me, quietly wiping her own tears.

I felt numb, as if I were a lifeless shell, and I barely moved my cracked lips.

While a stranger could feel sorrow for my dad’s fate, where was the daughter-in-law he had cherished for over a decade?

I spotted Grace at that moment, linked arm-in-arm with Chris, walking past my hospital bed.

They exchanged words, and she laughed, leaning into Chris’s embrace.

Gathering my last ounce of strength, I reached out and grabbed her hand. “Grace, please go see Dad. He cares for you the most. Send him off one last time, okay?”

Grace yanked her hand away and slapped me hard. “Get lost.”

My right cheek burned, and I tasted blood in my mouth as I watched them walk away, like a pair of lovebirds.