Forget it, I have Cao Viễn.
I shook head, pretending I just walked in: Đa awake?'
'Yeah.' finally looked at me, 'Why hasn't she learned to speak yet?'
I forced a 'She's only one.'
Cố frowned: 'I could speak many words at one.'
I choked, deflecting: 'Maybe were just smarter.'
Cố stared at Đa pensively: 'So she takes after you?'
?
That so wrong!
Such a broad insult!
I his jab, still shaken by earlier events: 'Did see who came today?'
'A man. Didn't seem decent.'
Being broke in cheap I why I'd be targeted.
A wild surfaced: 'Could it be Cao Viễn?'
But I dismissed it: 'We had an amicable divorce. He wouldn't...'
'Amicable?' snorted, 'Let remind no amicable divorce leaves wife penniless.'
Panic set in: 'You think it's him? I left nothing! Why would he...'
'Not confirmed,' interrupted, 'But man would discovering child isn't his.'
Those words shattered composure.
Yes. The child wasn't his.
Guilt made leave empty-handed.
I bore all blame.
He victim.
But so I.
I tell parents, anyone. Branded an adulteress, daughter living proof.
Cố Tu's lips thinned: 'Sorry. Didn't mean to...'
'You spoke truth.'
I a 'He return. Thanks for today. You should rest.'
Cố laughed coldly: 'Ùa, quick to dismiss after using help?'
'No! It's late...'
'How will raise Đa alone?' He leaned in doorway, piercing gaze holding mine.
'What do Job? Who watches her when Can afford nannies? What if man returns? I always be here.'
Each question stabbed knives. I had no answers.
'Face it, Ùa. now, I'm your only lifeline.'
05
Next morning, took to a police report. We installed hidden cameras, then I moved into his home.
He right I alone.
I'd leave once employed.
My design gathered dust for three years as a housewife. In job hunting proved brutal.
Resumes into void. Despair in.
'A friend's agency Interested?'
'Your friend?'
I and shame. embarrass you...'
'If not for your job hunt,' smirked, 'I'd think to stay longer.'
He grew serious: 'If try, what example for Đa?'
'But if they hire out pity...'
'It's a business, not charity. My holds no weight there.'
Cố coached nightly, roleplaying as in gray loungewear somehow radiate authority.
His rapid-fire questions left stammering:
'Why employment gap?'
'Can handle late nights a child?'
'Your designs are outdated. Respond.'
Tears welled surrendered first: 'Don't look at interviewers They'll misunderstand.'
'Misunderstand what?'
He hands: 'Begging for... favors.'
I flushed. He ruffled hair: 'Relax. You'll do fine.'
On interview drove To shock I aced it.
