Toxic Marriage : My Son Calls Someone Else Mom

Five years, and she could finally see!

Catherine Spencer carefully removed the bandages from her eyes, wincing as the sudden brightness stung her long-dormant retinas. She blinked repeatedly, allowing her vision to adjust as the once-familiar surroundings of the private mental health facility slowly came back into focus.

Richard Rivers had been away on business for two months and was expected to visit her today.

She couldn't wait to tell him the good news. He had promised that once her eyesight returned, she would be allowed to go home and reunite with her son.

Eager for a breath of fresh air, Catherine made her way toward the facility’s garden, ready to take in the scenery she had been deprived of for five long years.

However, near the main entrance, unusual sounds caught her attention.

"Slow down... someone might see us!"

A woman’s sultry moan drifted from a black Porsche parked by the roadside.

Through the window, Catherine caught a glimpse of a pair of feet in red high heels—and a man’s large hand gripping the woman’s thigh.

"Teasing me in public? Isn't this exactly what you wanted to be seen?" The man’s deep voice was laced with dangerous desire.

Catherine froze in shock. How could anyone behave so brazenly in broad daylight—especially outside a mental health facility?

Yet something about the man's voicestruck a strange chord of familiarity. She found herself lingering, compelled to take another look.

Though she could only make out fragments through the car window, the rhythmic movement and the violent rocking left little to the imagination. The woman inside appeared to be wearing torn lingerie.

Catherine backed away, stunned. This was too much, even in broad daylight; they seemed unconcerned about being discovered.

Still, that voice… why did it sound so familiar?

Choosing not to dwell on it, she turned away from the entrance and walked back inside the facility, eventually settling onto a bench beneath a large tree.

Whenever Richard visited, they always sat here together.

Soon, Richard appeared, impeccably dressed as always.

"Catherine, have you been waiting long? I’m sorry—work has been hectic,” he said softly, taking a seat beside her.

Catherine nodded obediently. “I understand.”

But as she spoke, she noticed faint wrinkles on Richard’s suit.

For a man obsessively particular about cleanliness, his appearance was unusually disheveled.

And that suit… it looked strikingly similar to the one worn by the man she had just seen in the car.

Her heart tightened.

Her sudden tension did not escape Richard’s notice. He stiffened for a brief moment before remembering Catherine's eye condition and relaxing again. What could a blind woman possibly notice?

"I smell perfume on you—something very sweet," Catherine said casually, though she knew full well it was a woman’s fragrance.

Richard dismissed it casually. "I was just meeting with a client who brought his wife along."

Catherine nodded, though unease lingered. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. 

Smoothing imaginary creases from her skirt, she spoke again. "The doctor says I'm recovering well. Once my eyesight returns completely, I can leave this place, right? I don't want to stay here anymore."

Richard's brow furrowed slightly, though his voice remained gentle. "Yes, once your eyes heal, our family of three can be reunited."

Catherine's lips curved into a small smile. "Could you bring Ethan to see me? I miss him so much."

Richard’s expression tightened instantly before he masked it with another excuse. "Ethan's busy with his extracurricular activities lately. I'll bring him when he has time."

Catherine's hands clenched in her lap. This was the umpteenth time she'd asked to see her son, only to be brushed off with various excuses. 

Before, when she couldn't see, she had relied on Richard's tone to guess his feelings. Now, she could clearly see the irritation in his eyes.

She recalled her early days at the facility—how Richard had visited daily, holding her close and expressing sympathy for her situation. 

He had said it was only temporary—that once the Smith family’s lawsuit was resolved, she would be free. Otherwise, leaving would mean imprisonment for assault.

"When will you visit me again?" Catherine asked quietly.

"Depends on my work schedule. I'll come when I can," Richard answered indifferently.

Catherine fell silent. 

She had begun to keep track of Richard's visits—daily at first, then weekly, and now only once every two months.

"Could I stay at the villa instead? I promise I won't go out. No one from outside would see me," she suggested cautiously.

Richard’s expression darkened instantly. "Catherine, I went to great lengths to arrange this facility for you to avoid prison. Are you trying to make things difficult? If something goes wrong, can you bear the consequences?”

"But..." Catherine bit her lip.

When Richard had first brought her here, he had claimed it was the safest option—that no one would discover her.

If she stayed at the villa without going out, wouldn't the effect be the same? Why was he so adamantly against it?

"No buts. My current arrangement for you is best," Richard insisted, impatience creeping into his voice. "Remember how severe the public backlash was after your assault incident? If you don’t lie low, the Smith family won’t let it go. Do you want the Spencer and Rivers families ruined?”

The light in Catherine's eyes gradually dimmed. "I understand."

Seeing her relent, Richard visibly relaxed.

If Catherine actually moved to the estate, he would lose his excuse to keep her from seeing their son.

Catherine lowered her gaze, hiding the storm of emotions within.

She wasn't stupid—she could feel Richard's changing attitude. 

His visits had grown increasingly infrequent, his stays shorter, and the notifications on his phone more frequent.

Whenever it came to this time, she would always sweetly let Richard focus on his work first.

In the psychiatric facility, no one disturbed her. Even without sight, she had been well cared for.

The only thing she longed for was her son, but Richard had always refused to let her see him.

As these thoughts surfaced, Catherine's heart grew colder.

Suddenly, Richard wrapped his arms around her, his voice tender. "Darling, give me a little more time. We'll be together soon."

Catherine was about to nod when Richard's phone lit up. 

He unlocked it, and for a fleeting second, Catherine caught a glimpse of the screen.

Her blood ran cold.

It was an extremely explicit photo—a woman in lingerie taking a mirror selfie. 

And she recognized the woman immediately.

It was her half-sister—and Richard’s childhood friend—Juniper Spencer.

A message followed.

Juniper: [Didn’t perform well in the car just now. Want to try again tonight? I’ve prepared some new tricks.]

Catherine’s body went rigid as the blood rushed to her head.

So the man in the car earlier… had been Richard.

Moments ago, he had been passionately entangled with another woman—her own sister.

Because she couldn't see, Richard felt no guilt pretending to be a good husband in front of her.

The weight of betrayal pierced Catherine’s heart like an invisible blade.

She couldn’t bear to imagine how long this deception had been going on.

If she hadn't regained her sight today, how much longer would she have been deceived?