Two months had passed since Mr. Jonathan was incarcerated, and never had Mrs. Jonathan visited him. He tried desperately to glean news from the outside world but became silent. Upon learning of his arrest, high-ranking officials who had once associated with him severed all ties. Consumed by rage, he yearned to exact vengeance on them immediately if he could.
Today, as he languished in his particular prison cell, a correctional officer informed him that a family member had come to see him. Intrigued, he wondered who it could be-his life had been filled with adversaries and devoid of true friends.
He followed the officer to the visiting room, where he was met with the sight of a frail woman. Her face was pallid, her eyes circled with dark bags from sleepless nights. He never could have imagined the woman he had always loved would be reduced to such a state; it tore at his heart.
Taking a seat, he picked up the phone but struggled to find the words to speak. “How are you? Why aren’t you taking care of yourself? Don’t worry about me; I’m doing fine here. I’m more concerned about you, you know?”
Mrs. Jonathan remained silent, her eyes brimming with tears. Concerned, Mr. Jonathan inquired, “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”
Still, she remained silent, tears streaming down her hollowed cheeks, amplifying her visible suffering.
Mr. Jonathan paused, sensing something was amiss. “Is there something important you need to tell me? I know my situation doesn’t bode well, so if you have something to say, say it now, or you may regret it later.”
Suddenly, Mrs. Jonathan broke into sobs, hurriedly wiping her tears with a tissue. But her emotions didn’t escape his notice. Gently, he said, “Go ahead, I’m all ears whenever you’re ready.”
Composing herself, Mrs. Jonathan began, “Before I speak, I beg for your forgiveness for everything I’ve done. I know you’ve loved my daughter and me, so please forgive us.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, she paused before continuing. “I should have never deceived you, but I felt I had no choice. I loved you and wanted us to be together forever. We couldn’t be together back then due to fate, and I have blamed myself for not fighting for our love, causing you pain. I’m sorry. But there’s one more thing I need to say-Agnes is not your biological daughter.”
Mrs. Jonathan hesitated as she revealed this earth-shattering secret. She knew Mr. Jonathan would find it difficult to forgive her, but she couldn’t bear the emotional burden. She believed he truly loved her, and his feelings had remained constant for many years. Moreover, he was now even willing to serve a prison sentence in place of her daughter; there was no reason for her to deceive him any further.
“When you returned to find me over twenty years ago, I was pregnant. I lied because I feared you would harm my family if you knew I had been with someone else. Agnes is the daughter of my husband, Mr. Frank.”
Mr. Jonathan felt a sharp, crushing pain in his chest as if someone was deliberately squeezing it. He had thought that after years of struggle, he had finally found happiness with his loved ones. But he had been exploited by the woman he loved most.
“How long have you been deceiving me? Why did you deceive me? I have treated you better than any other woman in the world. Don’t you know I’ve never felt happier than when reunited with you and our daughter? And now you tell me it was all a scam. You…”
Overcome with agony, he screamed, “I hate you! If I ever leave here, neither of you will have peace.”
He never thought he’d fall victim to someone else’s scheme. He had been the hunter all his life and had never understood what prey felt like when caught. But today, his perspective changed dramatically. The person he trusted most was his betrayer.
This site was indeed bottomless, and his once-revived heart was frozen again. Looking at the woman in front of him, he felt utter disgust. Despite all his calculated moves, he had lost everything in this ironic situation.
Mrs. Jonathan left the gloomy prison, not heading back to her luxurious mansion but driving straight to her sister’s place. Mrs. Evelyn was surprised but happy to see her. Noticing the absence of Agnes, she inquired, “It’s just you? Where is Agnes?”
Mrs. Jonathan wearily replied, “I’ll tell you later.”
“How long are you planning to stay? You promised last time to stay longer whenever you get a chance. You can’t go back on your word.”
“Yes, I will stay here permanently this time,” said Mrs. Jonathan.
Mrs. Evelyn’s smile faded as she sensed something was amiss and asked, “What has happened to you?”
Mrs. Jonathan forced a smile, “Nothing. I’m just tired of city life and want to retire here.”
Mrs. Evelyn felt somewhat relieved upon hearing this.
“That’s good then, I thought…”
“Thought what?”
“Why ask so much?”
The two conversed late into the night, sharing a tapestry of joyful and sorrowful life stories. Haunted by years of estrangement, Mrs. Evelyn has always been consumed by guilt. Since their reunion, she has considered her sister’s family her sole reason for living, vowing to care for them as best as possible.
A sudden storm erupted after Mrs. Evelyn left the room, drenching the earth with heavy rain. The rainfall drowned out all other noises, casting a sad and lonely atmosphere over the room. Mrs. Jonathan slowly opened her suitcase and placed a bottle of pills on the table. Her hands trembling, she poured a glass of water.
She knew that if Mr. Jonathan got out of prison, he would never leave her and her daughter alone. Yet, bottling up her fears would only lead to internal torment, self-blame, and an unlivable existence. It is better to risk her own life for her daughter’s peace.
Mrs. Jonathan realized her actions would break her sister’s heart, but she felt she had no other option. Mr. Jonathan was a man of clear-cut emotions-unforgiving to those who betrayed him.
Yet another concern that unsettled her was Agnes. Since fleeing, she had received no news about her daughter, and tears rolled down her face at the thought of her child’s uncertain fate.
The more Mrs. Jonathan pondered, the heavier her heart became. Holding the pills, their small forms stacking atop one another in her wrinkled palm, she closed her eyes briefly before returning to bed as if nothing had happened.
Perhaps she will have journeyed to a faraway place when dawn breaks tomorrow.