The Secret Inside the Sofa

I didn't want to trouble Todd, so I had him drop me off at a hotel to check in. I had no idea how long I lay there before I finally drifted into a hazy sleep sometime before dawn.

The next day, around noon, a barrage of urgent knocking jolted me awake.

The moment I opened the door, a crowd surged in.

"Matt, why did you file for divorce right after your wife gave birth?"

"There are rumors that you couldn't stay faithful during the marriage and have a mistress. Is that true?"

"Your wife, Victoria, just gave birth to your child, yet you're being so heartless. Do you feel any guilt toward her?"

Camera flashes exploded in front of my eyes. Recording devices and microphones were shoved inches from my face. They held up their phones, livestreaming, filming—each one of them filled with righteous anger, as if they hated me.

The commotion quickly drew even more onlookers. Once they learned what had happened, the crowd's gaze toward me turned openly disgusted.

A female reporter forced her way to the front, her tone sharp as she demanded, "Matt, sources say your wife was already sleeping separately from you during her pregnancy. Does that mean your marriage had long been fractured? And choosing to file for divorce on the very day she gave birth—was this premeditated?"

Another male reporter followed up immediately, "A nurse has revealed that not only did you refuse to hold your child in the delivery room, but you also pressured your wife to sign divorce papers in front of both families. How do you explain that?"

Only then did I realize that everything I had done yesterday had been recorded by a nurse and posted online. Overnight, it had ignited a storm of condemnation. In just a few hours, I had become a villain despised across the internet.

Facing countless cameras, I spoke calmly, "I have nothing to explain."

My answer instantly sparked outrage.

"Damn—if I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe a man like this exists, asking for divorce on the day his wife gives birth."

"What's there to guess? He must have another woman. A cheating scumbag and a mistress—perfect match."

"Divorce? I feel sorry for his wife. If the child grows up knowing he has a father like this, it'll be nothing but shame."

As the flood of insults drowned me out, my parents arrived—supporting Victoria between them.

The aftereffects of childbirth had yet to fade. Her face was deathly pale, her entire body frail to the point that it seemed she might collapse at any moment.

My parents helped her over to me. The moment she saw me, she asked anxiously, "Honey, are you okay?"

Her voice was so soft it seemed she barely had the strength to speak. Even so, she still worried about me.

Looking into her eyes, filled with concern and affection, I shook my head without saying a word.

Seeing this, my father spoke sternly, "Matt, your mother and I thought about this all night. We can't understand why you're suddenly treating Victoria like this. You're our son. I refuse to believe you're this kind of person. So we wondered if you'd misunderstood something. Last night, we rushed a paternity test. The child Victoria gave birth to is indeed your biological son. How could you still ask for a divorce?"

As he spoke, my father threw the paternity report in front of me.

I bent down and picked it up.

My mother continued, her voice full of urgency, "Matt, Victoria saw the livestream of you being attacked online. She was worried something might happen to you, so she rushed over without a second thought. Even her parents couldn't stop her.

"She's thinking of you every moment—you can't hurt her like this. Be good. Apologize to her. Admit your mistake."

But despite my parents' heartfelt pleas, I remained unmoved.

In front of everyone, I tore the paternity report into pieces.