Chapter Twelve: Another reality

Maya’s Pov

"Are you free, come to the house Maya." A text message from my mother that pulled me off guard.

This was the first time in two years since Ethan and I got married that my mother had actually sent for me. I was always the one calling them, trying to share my problems so they would know what their only child was going through. But I always got the same excuses, which were either "The Ethan I know is a good and caring husband to you, stop complaining," or "We're busy; we'll call you back," which they never did.

I was about to leave for work when I saw the text. Hope flared inside me maybe they had finally called because of my in-laws' accident and wanted to know how I was doing. I quickly drove straight to my parents’ house.

I rushed inside, stopping dead in the doorway. My mother was crying, but her face was beaming with pure joy. She was locked in a tight hug with a lady who looked exactly my age. That lady was crying, too. My father was shaking hands with a man I quickly guessed was a doctor, thanking him over and over.

“Mother, Father, you sent for me! What is happening? Why is Mother crying? And who is she?” I asked, my voice rising with confusion.

“I may leave now,” the doctor said, offering a curt nod before quickly walking out.

I watched him go, then spun back to my silent parents, only the soft sounds of sobbing between them.

“Father!” I urged, stepping closer.

“Uhm... Maya, please sit down,” my father said, gently directing me to a chair. I sank onto the seat, my eyes wide.

“She is our biological daughter,” he continued, pointing at the lady my mother was still holding in a hug.

“I… I am sorry, Father, I don't understand. I mean I don't remember having another sister. How can this be?” I stammered

My father began to explain a story that shattered my entire life. It started with my pre-marital lab test, which showed my genotype was AS, even though both he and my mother were AA. They couldn't understand how their child could have a different gene type. My father, unwilling to believe my mother had cheated, started digging for answers.

The truth was devastating. On the day I was born, the lady they called Ariana was born at the same time in the same emergency operating room.

Due to the rush, a nurse had mistakenly switched us. My biological mother died shortly after giving birth, and my biological father raised Ariana until he died when she was ten.

Ariana was then forced to spend her life in an orphanage until she turned eighteen. My parents found her working as a salesperson, and with the help of the doctor and nurse, who confirmed the switch.

As he finished speaking, the world tilted. My vision blurred, my ears began to ring. I felt a sudden, crushing weight settle on my chest. This explains everything! I thought bitterly. This is why they didn't care about Ethan. They were too busy searching for their real daughter.

The guilt was a physical pain. I looked at Ariana and then back at my father. Ariana lived in an orphanage while I had birthday parties every year. She struggled for food while I complained about my allowance. She lost both her parents young, and I had the love of two wealthy people for twenty-something years.

I mentally listed all the opportunities she missed, contrasting them with the privileged moments of my own childhood, and the guilt deepened into a profound shame. And Ethan? Which means Ethan would have never been mine to begin with.

“Thank goodness both the doctor and nurse who made the mistake were still alive, and today, we were able to find our biological daughter,” my father continued, his voice cracking as he broke down into tears.

Tears started streaming down my cheeks. I felt like I had taken a privilege from an innocent girl without knowing how to repay it.

“I am sorry, Father, Mother, and I am so sorry, Ariana, for every pain and suffering I might have caused you. Please find a way in your heart to forgive me,” I said, pleading with each of them.

I reached out to touch Ariana, but my mother slapped my hand away. The refusal was a sharp, clear rejection. I could feel my mother’s pain, and I knew seeing me only reminded her of the years she had spent raising the wrong child while her own suffered.

Accepting the harsh reality, I walked with heavy steps to my old room and gathered the few remaining things I had there. The room no longer belonged to me.

“Thank you, Father. Thank you, Mother, for everything. I will always be grateful to you," I whispered, saying my final goodbyes, but no one spoke a word in return.

I dragged my traveling bag toward the entrance door, my internal struggle raging. Don't look back, don't look back. I waited, hoping for one word, one hug. Instead, my mother’s voice, cold and sharp, pierced my heart in the tense.

“Drop the bag. None of that was bought with your money. Don't ever come back to this house because you won't be allowed in, and don't call me either because you won't get me.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I burst into loud, agonizing sobs, dropping the bag and fleeing the house.

I got into the car and cried uncontrollably. It felt like my life was a cycle of betrayal and rejection, first, it was Ethan, then Anna, and now, the people I called family.

I drove back to my marital house, still shattered and trying to figure out what to do next about Ethan, completely unaware that the worst was yet to come. As I walked in, I saw Sussy moving my bags toward the guest room.

“Sussy, what kind of nonsense is this?” I asked, my voice shaky.

Sussy immediately stepped back, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but Sir said I should take your belongings to the guest room,” she mumbled, clearly scared.

“What!” I yelled

I shoved past Sussy and stormed toward the master bedroom. As I reached the door, a faint sound stopped me: I heard a soft, familiar laugh and a low murmur. My heart began hammering against my ribs. Please, let this not be what I think it is, I desperately thought to myself.

I threw open the door and froze dead in the doorway. There, I was confronted with my worst nightmare: Ethan had moved Anna into the house.