After My Wife Buried Our Daughter Herself1
My wife Maria attended her first love's birthday party, leaving her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter alone at home.
The door was unlocked.
Our daughter Stella cried for Maria and went out alone, but was hit by a speeding truck and passed away.
When I saw Stella's dead body in the hospital, I felt heartbroken.
Unexpectedly, Maria said drunkenly, "It's okay, we still have a chance to have children in the future, don't disturb my party with him."
I was so angry that I slapped her in the face.
"Maria, are you sure you're Stella's biological mother?"
***
After three years of marriage, Maria and I had a two-and-a-half-year-old daughter.
Stella was our only child and my spiritual support after getting off work every day.
She had always been my sweetheart, until today when the hospital sent me a message saying that Stella had died!
My heart was even colder than the words.
The moment I saw the news, I felt like I was falling into an icy cave and rushed to the hospital without looking back.
On the way, I sent a message to Maria, asking her to rush to the hospital.
Unexpectedly, she seemed to be drunk, and said groggily, "It's okay, we still have a chance to have children in the future, don't disturb my party with him."
I knew who she referred to.
It was Logan, who had been pursued by her throughout college.
My fists were clenched so hard that they made a crackling sound. I suppressed my anger and called her, but to my surprise, she had decisively turned off her phone.
My wife, Maria!
When our child died, she was still attending Logan's birthday party!
My hands were shaking, but I rushed to the hospital holding on to the last glimmer of hope.
I believed it was fake and Stella was fine!
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
But the moment I saw the body in the morgue, I felt like I was falling into an icy cave. I said, "Stella?"
I lowered my head and stroked her hair, but he could no longer open her eyes.
This couldn't be true!
My heart was broken and tears welled up in my eyes.
I felt like the most important thing in my life was gone and would never come back.
When Maria came to the hospital, it was already eight o'clock in the evening, when it was already eleven hours after Stella's death.
She looked at me leaning back in my chair and smelled of alcohol.