On a stormy night, my husband left me alone in the middle of the highway, not knowing where to take shelter, when a luxury car stopped to help me.

Birthmark in the Rainy Night

The night sky was stormy, the wind was whipping against the windows, thunder and lightning flashed across the highway. I held my three-year-old son tightly in my arms, trying to keep him from the cold. But the real coldness did not come from the wind and rain, but from my husband Quang’s cold words that echoed in the middle of the storm:

– Get out of the car now! I don’t want to see you or your child again!

I was stunned. Tears mixed with rain blurred my vision. Just a few years ago, he was the one who promised to protect me for the rest of my life. Now, on the dark highway, he had the heart to push his wife and children off like strangers.

– Can you… at least think about the child? – I trembled and begged.

But Quang brushed it off:

– Child? Whether it is my child or not is not certain! Don’t expect to live happily with me anymore. Get out of the car!

The door latch opened. I trembled as I held my child and got out. The door slammed shut and the car sped away, leaving me and my child alone in the rain and storm on the deserted highway.

I struggled to lead my child along the sidewalk, my feet submerged in the rain. The child was trembling, eyes half-closed. I was desperate, only silently praying for a miracle.

And then, in the gray rain, car headlights shone. A black luxury car stopped right in front of us. The car door opened, a man’s voice rang out:

– You! It’s raining like this. Why are you holding a child in the middle of the highway? Get in the car!

With no other choice, I held my child and walked up. The warm leather seat brought tears to my eyes.

The man gave me a towel:
– Wipe the boy, he’s cold and purple.

I nodded and took off my son’s wet clothes. When I rolled up his pants, a bright red birthmark appeared on his left leg. The driver glanced at it and stopped.

His face was pale, his eyes wide open, his hands shaking as he held the phone:

– Oh my god… no way!

Then he immediately dialed the number, his voice trembling:

– Madam, I… I just met a child. On his leg there is a birthmark exactly like… yes, exactly like the young master’s!

I was stunned. I didn’t understand what was going on.

The car took us to a brightly lit villa. A woman in her fifties ran out, her eyes both frightened and radiant. She rushed forward, hugging the baby tightly in her arms, sobbing:

– Oh my god, this birthmark… there’s no mistaking it. This is my grandson!

I was stunned. That woman was Quang’s biological mother. I had only met her a few times because she lived abroad. It turned out that the birthmark was a genetic trait, only her bloodline had it.

She looked at me, tears rolling down her face:
– My child, for so long Quang has been confused, suspicious, and ungrateful to you and your mother. But here is the truth. This child is our flesh and blood.

I choked up, not knowing whether to be happy or to cry.

The very next morning, Quang was called to the villa. As soon as he entered, he was surprised to see his mother and son.

– Mom… why did you come back so suddenly?

She angrily slapped him across the face:
– You unfilial son! You dare to doubt your wife and children, and leave my grandchild alone on the highway in the middle of a stormy night? If no one had saved you yesterday, you would have indirectly killed our blood relatives!

Quang turned pale and stammered:
– I… I thought…

– What do you think? – She said each word. – This birthmark is the clearest proof. It is your blood!

Quang fell to his knees, crying like rain. But I just looked at him coldly. How could those late tears erase the terrible rainy night when my child and I almost lost our lives?

From that day on, I decided to leave Quang. His mother loved me and advised me to stay in the villa to live with her. But I only asked for her help for a while, then I would go out and be independent. I did not want to live off the family fortune, and even less did I want to be involved with the man who had once heartlessly kicked me and my mother out of the car.

Quang tried to hold on, promising to change, but in my heart, the trust was dead. Love, once betrayed by cruelty, cannot be revived.

Many years later, I opened a small shop and raised my children. Every time a storm comes, I remember that fateful night – the night I lost my husband, but also found my truth and my pride.

As for Quang, I heard he is still single. He lives in torment, burning incense to apologize to his ex-wife and children on the anniversary of his mother’s death. But the past cannot be returned.

The son grew up strong, inheriting the birthmark – a testament to the family bloodline. But to me, the birthmark also reminded me of a bitter lesson:

In the family, the greatest tragedy is not poverty, but when trust is betrayed. And sometimes, it is in the storm that people realize who truly deserves to be called family.