He grew tired of coming home to daughters. Four daughters, one after another. In his family, where the family name and legacy mattered, a son was expected — the heir, the pride, the future.
Whispers followed him everywhere:
“That house must carry bad karma — no son to carry on the name.”
His wife bore the pain silently, enduring blame and cold looks. Even when doctors warned her health was fragile, she pushed on, desperate to give him the son he wanted.
Finally, when the son was born, tears of joy welled up. But as the boy grew, something felt off. His skin was pale, his eyes narrow, his forehead broad — nothing like the dark complexion and sharp features of his father.
Doubt crept in.
One night, frustrated and bitter, he spat,
“Are you sure he’s even mine?”
His wife wept quietly. Their eldest daughter, just thirteen, watched him silently with sad, searching eyes.
One day, blinded by frustration and shame, he ran away — leaving behind his wife and children to be with a younger woman, a hairdresser who promised him two sons — sons “just like him.”
For a week, he lived the illusion of a new family, escaping the weight of his old one.
But that rainy afternoon, something drew him home — with a cold, hard resolve to divorce.
When he opened the door, the silence was deafening. His daughters sat quietly, their eyes red from tears. The eldest walked toward him, voice cold and steady:
“Daddy, come in and look at me one last time.”
He froze.
Inside, his wife lay pale as a ghost, hands clutching an unfinished letter. Their son had been taken to a neighbor’s house — she had taken sleeping pills, the same kind he once bought for his mistress.
He screamed, shook her, called for help — but it was too late.
The letter read:
“I’m sorry. I kept our son hoping he would love me more. But when I left, I knew I had already lost. If there’s another life, I want to be my children’s mother again — even if I’m never a wife.”
He sank to the floor, head in his hands, as his daughter’s cries pierced his heart like a knife.
His mistress, upon hearing what happened, panicked — cutting all contact and disappearing into the night.
He was left alone — broken by his own choices and the family he had abandoned.