The Husband Regretted it, But it was Too Late!

The village chief slapped his thigh in frustration, grabbing Jack by the shirt and warning him sharply, “There are things better left unsaid, so keep your mouth shut!”

“This time it’s real—he even brought a journalist for an interview!” The color drained from Jack’s face. He swallowed the rest of his bun, then quickly pulled out a wad of cash, trying to smooth things over.

“Don’t scare me, Mr. Grant. How did it come to this... maybe we could just tell them she died of illness...”

The village chief looked even more grim. He raised his arm and slapped Jack, saying sternly, “Even if an expert died here, I couldn’t cover it up, let alone Liam’s wife. Don’t get any funny ideas—make her keep quiet, or we’ll all go down together.”

Jack, drenched in sweat, chased after the retreating village chief, calling out, “You can’t just leave me hanging…”

He returned looking defeated, his eyes hardening as he stared at me with a mix of cunning and malice. He reached out with his rough, yellowed hand.

I felt nothing—like a piece of wood. Most of the time, I existed like a walking corpse, numb to everything around me.

What a shame, I thought. If you give up now, you’ll just be handing that bastard an easy win.

He grabbed my hand in anger, but something inside me snapped. I shoved him away with all the strength I could muster.

“Let go of me.”

Jack was startled and kicked me against the wall. “If you dare expose what happened here, do you think Mr. Grant will still want you, you lowlife?”

He started undressing as he approached me, sneering, “If you open your mouth, I’ll just say you were the one who betrayed him first—that you even had a daughter with me. How about that?”

My breath quickened, and painful memories flooded back, overwhelming me. He moved closer, and suddenly, it was like I was back in those dark days.

Three years ago, I found out I was pregnant, but I didn’t know who the father was. By the time it was discovered, I was already five months along. Jack was furious and wanted me to abort, but others stopped him, saying the baby could be valuable.

Under their strict surveillance, I gave birth to a baby girl who was taken away immediately. The next time I saw her, she was already over two years old, dressed in filthy clothes. She was terrified of getting hit for feeding the chickens and had run to hide in the pigsty. She wasn’t even 80 centimeters tall, but she was already digging through the trough for food with skill. Her little hands were covered in frostbite.

I couldn’t bring myself to love her, but I couldn’t hate her either.

Soon, a group of women caught up to us, pointing and whispering. Jack’s wife was the loudest.

“She was asking for it,” she sneered.

“She’s a tramp. My husband won’t even touch me anymore.”

“Filthy, shameless whore.”

...

A stream of vile words and urine splashed all over me, drenching me from head to toe. But I couldn’t even cry.

When Jack heard the commotion, he came over and chased them away, but I saw his eyes dart to his two-year-old daughter. Jack’s wife grabbed the little girl and took her away.

Humiliated, Jack looked at my filthy state and, furious, he forced himself on me again. I know that if I ever see my sister again, I won’t be able to face myself.