The Dinner That Took My Father and My Child

I was completely stunned.

He was clearly a landlubber.

He had always said he was most afraid of water!

And yet, he had risked his life for her.

I turned away, unwilling to witness the heroic rescue again, and headed straight to the hospital for an abortion.

The anesthetic coursed through me, and as my consciousness blurred, one thought consumed me:

Ethan, you can get out now.

When I opened my eyes again,

Only Henry, eyes red-rimmed, stood by the bed.

I instinctively touched my belly—it was flat.

A long-lost sense of relief washed over me.

I turned my head, voice hoarse: "Where’s Ethan?"

Henry turned and handed me a video.

The screen trembled. On the beach, Tara cried as she administered artificial respiration to Ethan.

When he awoke, coughing violently, she immediately hugged him tightly.

"Ethan, I can’t go against my will anymore!"

"I love you! Ethan, you big fool! I love you!"

Amidst the cheers of onlookers, they clung together, drenched in sweat.

The mermaid had saved her prince.

Their love was unwavering.

And I… I was that pathetic, ridiculous bubble.

The bubble burst in the sunlight, turning into tears that streamed down my cheeks.

The second video showed Ethan carrying Tara sideways into the hotel.

At the same time, an unfamiliar message appeared on my phone:

"Honey, my phone dropped in the water. I’m borrowing a friend’s phone to text you. I’m busy here, so I won’t be home tonight. Good night to you and the baby~"

I stared at it for a long, long time.

Then, I slowly sat up.

"Henry, help me put the aborted fetus in the foam box."

"Hire a gong and drum troupe, all the gossipy ones."

Henry frowned. "What are you trying to do?"

I said, word for word:

"Of course I’ll take this generous gift to the hotel, with drums and gongs blaring, to celebrate my husband’s concubine!"

The gong and drum band were in position. I immediately started the livestream, feigning distress.

"Family, the anchor has a real headache lately. Her husband says his friendship with his girlfriend is pure, but I don’t think so."

Comments poured in instantly:

[You’re being jealous! Pure friendships between men and women can exist.]

[I can tell the anchor is narrow-minded.]

I shook my head in denial.

[No, no, no! The anchor isn’t narrow-minded at all. Ever since the conflict with my husband’s female brother, she’s learned her lesson.]

I paused, watching the livestream numbers skyrocket.

If they really were having an affair, the anchor would not hesitate—she would immediately find a concubine for her husband.

Curses and sympathy flew across the chat.

Following an online tutorial, I obtained the hotel room card and led the gong and drum troupe to the room.

I pushed the door open.

The room was chaotic. Two disheveled bodies were tangled in a web of passion.

I covered my mouth and screamed, "Wow! Breasts and breasts, so satisfying to touch! So satisfying to eat! Truly good brothers!"