The Secret in the Wedding Night Video
I was born in a poor countryside, growing up among rice fields, mud, and very simple dreams. Never did I dare to imagine that one day I would marry a wife who was both beautiful and wealthy. Yet, that movie-like scenario happened to me, so fast that I barely had time to prepare myself mentally.
My wife and I were introduced by my boss. At that time, I had just broken up with my ex-girlfriend; my spirit was low, and I couldn’t focus on anything. Seeing this, my boss said: “Why don’t you try meeting this girl? You two might hit it off.” That simple suggestion turned out to be the biggest turning point of my life.
From our first meeting, I was struck by her gentleness. She spoke softly with kind eyes, showing none of the pretentiousness I usually feared from wealthy families. Feeling insecure about my background, I once asked her bluntly: “Don’t you mind that I come from a poor family?” She simply smiled: “Wealth doesn’t define a person.”
Our relationship progressed faster than I imagined. Just as our love began to bloom, her parents found out. I had anticipated their opposition; the social gap was vast, and it was understandable that they worried for their daughter’s future. I even thought about letting go to save her from hardship. But then, she became pregnant. That news changed everything.
Her parents shifted from fierce opposition to acceptance, though they still had their doubts. The wedding wasn’t overly grand, but to me, it was the happiest day of my life.
That night, after the guests had left, I was still floating on air. My wife told me to wait a moment while she took a shower. I sat on the bed, looking around our bridal suite with a mix of joy and nerves. To pass the time, I picked up her phone, initially just to check the hour. At that exact moment, the screen lit up with an incoming message.
It was an unfamiliar name, but the profile picture was hauntingly familiar. It was her ex-boyfriend, someone I had heard about a few times. After a moment of hesitation, I opened it. My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. A video appeared—an intimate clip of her and her ex. My head spun, and my hands trembled so violently I almost dropped the phone.
The accompanying message left me speechless: “You’re carrying my child yet marrying someone else, making my child call another man ‘father.’ You are truly cruel. I can’t get a divorce right now, but wait for me for a few years. I will definitely come back for you and our child.”
I don’t know how many times I re-read that message. I just remember sliding off the bed and collapsing onto the floor, my back turning cold. I knew that man—wealthy, and he used to spoil her. I heard they broke up because he betrayed her. I thought that chapter was closed, only for it to come crashing down on my wedding night in the most brutal way.
When my wife stepped out of the bathroom and saw me on the floor, she asked in a panic: “What’s wrong? Why are you sitting down there?” I looked up at her, my throat tight. I didn’t know how to start, so I made an excuse about being exhausted from hosting guests all day.
I love her—that is undeniable. I love her so much that even though the truth about the baby hurts enough to take my breath away, I can’t bring myself to let go. But that love now comes with a growing sense of insecurity. I fear the day that man returns; I fear I am just a temporary shelter, and I fear that all my efforts won’t be enough to keep her.
I am not a saint, but I don’t want to live a lifetime of suspicion and self-deception. Avoiding the truth only prolongs the pain. I stayed awake all night, not because of the questions, but because I finally understood: I cannot keep pretending I didn’t see anything.
This marriage, though started with love, needs the truth to survive. The next morning, I told myself that I would have a frank conversation with her. Regardless of the outcome, I need to know where I truly stand in her heart. If I must hurt, I’d rather it be clear and final than live forever in a shadow of fear.
