The Shape of Happiness: A Family Crumbling Due to the Mother's Infidelity, a Wounded Middle School Daughter, and a Struggling Father Finding a New Form of Happiness. - Episode 44

Almost three years had passed since the day of judgment. Every month without fail, I continued to pay alimony and child support. The alimony, which was close to five million yen, along with the remaining balance of the loan I had taken over, was now more than halfway paid off. It would still take a long time to fully repay, but I wanted to continue making payments properly to atone for the sins I had committed.

In the midst of these days of penance, there was one thing I looked forward to every month.

I checked the mailbox attached to my apartment door.

“…Ah! It’s here!”

A white envelope addressed to me had arrived. I carefully opened it, revealing a single small slip of paper inside. Written on it was:

**Receipt**
**Alimony installment and loan repayment: 90,000 yen**
**Child support: 30,000 yen**
**Total: 120,000 yen – Payment confirmed**
**Shinichi Takagi**

It was a receipt for the money I had transferred. Every month, Shinichi would send me a paper receipt like this. This single receipt was the only thing that connected me to Shinichi.

As someone who had been unfaithful, I had no right to ask for reconciliation, and even if I did, he would never agree. So, this single receipt was the only thing that allowed me to feel even a small connection to him.

Nearly three years had passed since our divorce. Yet, I still saw Shinichi in my dreams. In my dreams, he was just like before—smiling kindly and embracing me. I would cling to him desperately, trying not to let go, but he would smile and slowly fade away. I would cry out his name in desperation, and then I would wake up, realizing my pillow was wet with tears. Sometimes, I even woke up to the sound of my own voice calling his name.

Even though I had accepted reality, my heart still belonged to Shinichi.

That’s why I kissed the receipt. I knew it was a pathetic and disgusting act for a woman who had been divorced due to infidelity. But I couldn’t stop myself. At least, for the brief moment he wrote this receipt, Shinichi had thought about me. That was enough. It was proof that I still existed in his mind.

—

“Huh…?”

In the harsh winter cold, an envelope from Shinichi arrived before I had even made my monthly payment. I panicked, thinking something might have happened to Misaki, and quickly tore open the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper.

**Sunday, 7 PM – Look through the gap in the fence at my parents’ house.**

That was all it said. I had no idea what it meant. But since Shinichi had gone out of his way to send it to me, it must have been important. I had no work that Sunday, so I decided to go to my old home at the designated time.

—

**Sunday, 7 PM**

My breath was white in the freezing air. The streetlights, scattered here and there, cast a soft glow on the fields and roads, and the darkness of night slowly seeped into the sky. After three years, I had returned to my parents’ house. But since I had been disowned, I could not set foot inside. Shinichi must have known this from my mother.

The old wooden fence was still full of gaps, just like when I was a child. Though it was a quiet residential area in the countryside, I dressed in dark clothing to avoid drawing attention and to prevent myself from being seen from inside the house. Trembling from the cold, I pressed my face against the fence to peek inside.

Through the gaps, I saw a small garden, a narrow veranda, and the well-lit living room. The curtains were fully open.

“…Mom.”

My mother, Saori, was there. She looked older somehow—perhaps because of the trouble I had caused her. I wanted to call out to her, but I had no right to do so. My heart ached. My mother seemed to be waiting for someone, glancing toward the entrance of the living room. Then, someone appeared—

“…Shinichi.”

That warm smile of his hadn’t changed at all. I wished I could kiss him again. I wished I could be held by him again. But—

“!”

Following behind Shinichi into the room was Ryoko, the ex-wife of Atsushi, the man I had cheated with. She and Shinichi exchanged warm smiles. In that moment, reality struck me—I could never be with Shinichi again. My wish was truly an impossible dream. But this was for the best. Shinichi and Ryoko looked genuinely happy together. She must have healed the wounds I had inflicted on Shinichi’s heart, just as he had healed hers. They cared for each other, loved each other, and needed each other. They had probably remarried.

Congratulations, Shinichi. And—

“Misaki!”

The little girl I remembered had grown into a beautiful young lady over the past three years. She still had an innocent charm but was slowly stepping toward adulthood. She stood before them, proudly showing off a uniform I had never seen before. Misaki had been in middle school, so she must have been starting high school soon. That must have been her new high school uniform. Today, she was showing it off to the three of them, and Shinichi had wanted me to see it.

Spinning around happily in her new uniform, hugging Ryoko with a big smile—Misaki looked so happy. I had so easily abandoned this precious daughter, the child I had carried in my own womb. Watching her hug Ryoko with a smile, I saw my own ghostly reflection in her place. My tears wouldn’t stop.

But then I remembered.

The four people standing there—
They were the ones I had deeply hurt with my betrayal.

I must not misunderstand.
I am not a pitiful victim.
I am the cruel perpetrator.

—

Misaki played around with Ryoko while Saori smiled warmly.

Last year, I had remarried Ryoko. In this home of Saori’s, the four of us were slowly building our own little happiness, shaping our new family. Misaki getting accepted into her desired high school was the happiest event in recent memory.

I had thought Akiko should see Misaki in her uniform, so I had sent her the note with the date and time. I wondered if she had come. I casually glanced toward the glass door.

Through the large gap at the bottom of the fence, I saw a woman in black kneeling on the ground, bowing deeply toward us.

She was on the cold street, her forehead touching the dirt, humbling herself completely. If that woman was Akiko, then she must have been offering a heartfelt apology to all four of us, especially to Misaki.

Nearly three years had passed since the divorce, but I wanted to believe that Akiko had spent her days reflecting and regretting her actions. Not because I wanted her to suffer—but because true self-reflection would eventually lead to her own happiness.

I turned my gaze back to Misaki and the others, then looked toward the fence again.

She was gone.