She clutched a large bowl, shoveling food into her mouth like she hadn’t eaten in days. Tears ran down her face as she wiped them away, glancing toward the door like she was afraid of being caught.
I frowned.
Why was she hiding?
I walked in and asked sharply, “Why are you eating like that in secret? What are you hiding this time?”
Lily jumped, dropping her spoon.
When she saw me, her face turned pale.
“H-honey… why are you home so early? I… I was just having lunch…”
I didn’t respond. I reached over and took the bowl from her.
And when I looked inside…
My heart nearly stopped.
It wasn’t real food.
It was old, yellowed rice mixed with dried fish heads and sharp bones—something you wouldn’t serve to anyone.
My whole body went cold.
I had been sending my mother money every month.
So why… was my wife eating this?
The silence in the kitchen felt suffocating.
I looked at the bowl again, then back at Lily.
“What is this…?” I asked quietly.
She said nothing.
Her hands trembled.
“Lily,” I said, firmer now. “Why are you eating this?”
She lowered her head. “It’s nothing… I was just hungry.”
Something inside me snapped.
“Don’t lie to me!”
My voice echoed louder than I intended.