The scent of 'White Tea' infused throughout the high-end aesthetic clinic was clinical perfection. It was a sterile, pristine fragrance designed to mask the pungent stench of betrayal that currently suffocated me.
I sat on the beige lambskin sofa, my eyes fixed on Thana. My husband, a renowned dermatologist with a face that defied his years, was meticulously using a million-baht laser to erase a minor blemish from a socialite's porcelain skin. His movements were tender, his smile radiating the kind of warmth that inspired absolute trust. It was the same smile he had used to deceive me, and the world, for two decades.
"Dr. Thana is such a saint," a nurse whispered nearby. "A devoted family man and a genius at his craft."
I forced a brittle smile, my grip tightening around my phone. A notification had just brazenly flashed on the screen—a lewd message from his mistress. Suddenly, a phantom sting flared up on my calves, as if the childhood rattan cane was striking the same old scars. The scars left by my mother, who beat me simply because I 'looked like my father'—the man she loathed with every fiber of her soul.
"Why must you have his face!" her screams echoed from the depths of my memory. My mother never struck me out of discipline; she struck me because every time she looked at me, she saw the shadow of infidelity. And now, that same woman was incessantly calling me—not to offer comfort, but to demand the 'insurance payout' from my father's recent passing. My devastation was merely a footnote to her greed.
I had fought to remain the pillar of strength for my three children—my sixteen-year-old facing a cruel world, my sensitive thirteen-year-old, and my innocent five-year-old. I worked tirelessly, crossing borders to Korea to build a sanctuary for them. But my reward was Thana's calculated poison. He had twisted my professional trips into a narrative of scandal, convincing our entire family that 'I was the one with the affair.'
No one believed me. I was a child again, telling my teachers about my father's secrets, only to have my mother silence me with a blow to the mouth, branding me a 'liar' before the world.
Yet, amidst the wreckage of my own bloodline, I found one solitary beacon of light in Korea. A kind-hearted surgeon who knew the truth—who knew Thana had been frequenting sex workers for over a decade. He was the only man who truly saw me, the only one who loved my children as his own.
But now, as the pandemic had sealed the skies and imprisoned me in this house of lies, a phone call from Seoul delivered the final, crushing blow.
"The Doctor was in a car accident... He's in a coma."
I looked up as Thana approached me, wearing that same smug, victorious smile. This man, whose soul was rotting beneath his flawless skin, stood breathing before me. Meanwhile, the only man who was ever faithful to me was fading away in a land I could no longer reach.
For twenty years, I wore the mask of the 'Lucky Doctor's Wife.' But today... the scar beneath the skin is too deep for any surgeon to repair.