Yin took Zhong to a local school. Since their move to the village, she'd enrolled him in a school closer to her house. Even though it was a local school, it was remarkably well-equipped and boasted a team of skilled, passionate teachers. She'd spent weeks ensuring Zhong settled in, watching his bright smile return as he made new friends. This peaceful routine had become her anchor.
I sat there, watching Yin sleeping. Her breath was shallow, her face serene, yet a deep-seated unease gnawed at me. I could sense something was going to happen, a shift in the quiet rhythm of our lives. Let's just hope it was a good one. An hour before Yin was due to go and pick Zhong from school, her phone buzzed with a call from the school. Her eyes snapped open, a flicker of alarm crossing her face before she even registered the caller ID. Without a word, she sprang up and rushed out, desperate to see her little Zhong.
The Uninvited Reunion
Local school. I was also trailing behind her, a mere shadow. If I didn't go with her, I wouldn't know what to say when gossiping about it, would I? She moved with a purpose, her steps quick and determined, until she reached the principal's office. "Where is my son?" she demanded, pushing the door open without knocking. Her voice, sharp with maternal concern, died in her throat the next second. She froze, her entire body tensing. I passed through her, an invisible observer, curious to see why she had that expression. And then I froze too.
Sitting opposite the principal, looking far too comfortable for someone who had no right to be there, was Jinye.
"Yin," he called, his voice a low rumble, like he was trying to convince himself she was really there, that this wasn't a figment of his desperate longing. He stood up slowly at first, his eyes never leaving her, then in one swift, yearning leap, he was across the room and had embraced her. She almost melted into the moment, the familiar scent of him, the strength of his arms, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed wall around her heart. But she couldn't give in easily. Not after everything. Not after the pain, the betrayal, the quiet, solitary journey she'd embarked on.
With a surge of renewed resolve, she pushed him away. "Mr. Principal, where is my son?" she asked again, her voice strained, her gaze darting between the two men. The principal looked at Jinye, then back at her, offering a tight, awkward smile.
"His dad ordered for him to be taken home," he said, his eyes practically apologetic.
She glared daggers at both of them, a fury simmering beneath her calm exterior. The principal ended up giving her an even more awkward smile, clearly uncomfortable being caught in the crossfire of a marital storm. Her husband, Jinye, stood there, waiting for his final judgment, his expression a blend of apprehension and faint hope.
"Take me to my son," she demanded, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument.
"I told Yanji to take him home... to our house," Jinye finally spoke, his voice laced with a subtle plea. "Our house, Yin."
Sighing, she found a place to sit, her hand instinctively going to her stomach, a subtle, protective gesture that neither man seemed to notice. This drama was getting out of hand. They should just reconcile and stop this crazy stuff. I silently agreed; the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Nodding to the principal, who understood the unspoken command to leave them alone, he quietly slipped out, closing the door behind him.
A Husband's Desperation
Jinye immediately knelt before her, his strong hands reaching for hers. "Yin, I'm so sorry," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion, his handsome face etched with genuine remorse. "I wasn't thinking straight. I just didn't know what got into me. Please, forgive me." He was so close, his eyes mirroring the ache she felt in her own heart. She sat lazily, not pulling away, but not reciprocating either. He studied her whole physique, his gaze lingering on her face, her slender frame. She was healthy, he noted, a wave of relief washing over him, but he wanted more than just her health. He wanted to take care of her, to protect her, to have his home back. His home, which had been empty and desolate without her and Zhong.
"Jinye. Why did you come here?" she asked, her voice devoid of all emotions, a flat monotone that betrayed nothing of the tempest brewing inside her.
His smile immediately vanished. The coldness in her tone, the blankness in her eyes, confirmed his worst fear: she was not happy to see him. But he was a man who didn't give up easily, especially when it came to his family. He wore another smile, a determined one. "I miss my wife," he said, the words heartfelt. He genuinely did. The past six months had been a living hell. The lavish house, the thriving business—all of it felt meaningless without her laughter, without Zhong's endless energy.
"How did you find me?" she questioned, her voice still sharp, like a detective grilling a suspect. She needed to know. She had chosen this remote village precisely to escape him, to heal, to build a new life for herself and Zhong, and their unborn child.
"Fate said I'll find you," he smiled, a flicker of his old charm returning, as he gently kissed the back of her hand.
Pulling her hand away sharply, her expression hardening, she warned, "Don't take this time I'm giving you for granted. I can change my mind at any time." She wasn't playing games. Her trust had been shattered, and rebuilding it would take more than sweet words and romantic gestures.
"Fine," he conceded, dropping his hand, the charm fading to earnestness. "I just felt to buy a property around this area. I was just... drawn here. Then I saw some kids bullying a child. So I stopped to separate them, and that's how I found out it was our son. He was also happy to see me," he said, a genuine smile forming. He truly was thrilled to see Zhong, more than he would have been a year ago. It was Yin who had taught him how to be a father, how to truly connect with his son. Before her, Zhong had been an obligation, a reminder of a past he couldn't hold onto. But Yin, with her boundless love and patience, had built a bridge between him and his son, making Zhong a true part of their family, even if it was only for a month before everything fell apart.
"Jinye, you believed them," Yin finally broke, her voice cracking, the pain of that accusation raw. "You believed those ridiculous pictures, those lies about me having a boyfriend. My own husband, who swore to cherish me, who saw me every day, believed anonymous photos circulated by your mother and those... those obsessive girls, over me. Over the woman carrying your child!" She hadn't meant to blurt out the last part, the six-month secret that had been her most vulnerable burden, but the words escaped before she could stop them. Her hand flew to her stomach, a reflexive gesture of protection.
Jinye froze, his eyes widening. "Carrying... my child?" he whispered, his gaze falling to her stomach, then snapping back to her face, a mix of disbelief, hope, and crushing guilt washing over him. The air in the room thickened, suddenly heavy with unspoken truths. "You're... you're pregnant? Why didn't you tell me? When I left, you gave me... you gave me that test." He remembered the small, white stick, the faint line that had promised a future, a new life, right before she had vanished. He had dismissed it, buried it in his grief and anger, thinking it was a cruel joke, a desperate attempt to manipulate him. He had convinced himself it was negative, that she was lying. He hadn't bothered to investigate that either, blinded by rage.
Yin's eyes welled up, but she blinked back the tears. "I gave you the test, Jinye. That night. I wanted to tell you properly, but you were so consumed by their lies, by your own rage, that you couldn't see me, couldn't hear me. You just left me there, heartbroken, with your son, and a secret growing inside me."
He slowly reached for her, his eyes pleading. "Yin, my love, I made a terrible mistake. I was blind, I was foolish. My mother... those women... they poisoned my mind. I was so caught up in the idea of protecting you, of protecting my image, I didn't see I was hurting you. I was an idiot. Please, come back. Let me take care of you, of Zhong, of our baby." He was desperate, true repentance shining in his eyes.
Yin's heart ached. She loved him, that much was undeniable. Every fiber of her being yearned to be in his arms, to let him share the burden of this pregnancy, to be a family again. But the hurt, the betrayal, was still a raw wound. She needed more than just an apology. She needed him to truly understand the depth of his error, to prove that he would never doubt her again. She needed an excuse to forgive him, something that would justify her return to a man who had so easily believed the worst of her.
Jinye, sensing her hesitation, the lingering resistance in her eyes, knew his apologies were failing. He had tried everything else in the past months—flowers, gifts, countless calls, desperate letters, even sending mutual friends. Nothing had worked. He had no choice. He had to play his last card, a card he hated, a card that made his heart clench, but one he knew would work because it involved the one person Yin loved more than life itself.
His expression hardened slightly, the plea in his eyes replaced by a grim determination. "Yin," he began, his voice lower, firmer now, "Yanji took Zhong home, to my house. He's there now. And I've already put arrangements in place. If you don't return with me, if you don't come back to our home, then I will... I will ensure that Zhong stays with me. You will still be able to see him, of course, but he will live in my house, attend a school closer to me, and you will only have visitation rights. I am his biological father, Yin. It would be an easy fight, and I would win. You know I would."
Yin gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief and horror. The air crackled with tension. Zhong. He was using Zhong. It was a low blow, a cruel twist, and yet... it was undeniably effective. Her greatest love, her most cherished bond, was being held hostage. She knew he wouldn't truly hurt Zhong; Jinye, despite his past indifference, had grown to love the boy deeply in that last month before she left, a love that Yin herself had fostered. But he was ruthless enough to use this leverage. He truly had no other choice.
She looked at him, tears finally overflowing and streaming down her face. "You wouldn't," she whispered, though she knew, deep down, he would. He was desperate, and this was the only way he could force her hand.
"I don't want to, Yin," he said, his own eyes now glistening, reflecting her pain. "But I need you back. I need my family. And I know you love Zhong more than anything. I know you won't leave him. This is the only way."
The words hung heavy in the air. Forgiveness wasn't just about her pain anymore. It was about Zhong. It was about the new life growing inside her. It was about the family she had fought so hard to create. Jinye had provided her an excuse, a compelling, heartbreaking, undeniable reason to go back. Not for him, not entirely for herself, but for Zhong. For the family she loved, despite everything. Her love for Jinye, which had never truly died, rekindled amidst the embers of her hurt, fueled by this new, inescapable reality.
She took a deep, shaky breath, her gaze meeting his. "You will never, ever doubt me again," she stated, her voice trembling but firm. "You will never believe another lie about me, no matter who says it. And you will love Zhong, truly love him, every single day."
"I swear it, Yin," Jinye vowed, his voice hoarse with emotion, pulling her into a gentle, desperate embrace. This time, she didn't push him away. The weight of her secret, the burden of their separation, began to lift, replaced by a cautious hope. She had her excuse. And he had his family back. The long, difficult road to healing had just begun, but they would walk it together.
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