{"id":10944,"date":"2026-08-15T00:37:40","date_gmt":"2026-08-15T00:37:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/?p=10944"},"modified":"2026-08-15T00:37:40","modified_gmt":"2026-08-15T00:37:40","slug":"my-husband-confessed-to-cheating-after-38-years-of-marriage-five-years-later-at-his-funeral-a-stranger-whispered-you-need-to-know-what-your-husband-did-for-you","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/?p=10944","title":{"rendered":"My Husband Confessed to Cheating After 38 Years of Marriage \u2014 Five Years Later, at His Funeral, a Stranger Whispered, \u201cYou Need to Know What Your Husband Did for You\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\n

<\/h1>\n

For thirty-eight years, I believed I knew my husband.<\/p>\n

Richard and I had built the kind of marriage people described as ordinary.<\/p>\n

Sunday pancakes.<\/p>\n

Shared grocery lists.<\/p>\n

Arguments over whose turn it was to fix the leaky faucet.<\/p>\n

Forty years of photographs where we were always standing beside each other.<\/p>\n

It wasn’t perfect.<\/p>\n

But it was ours.<\/p>\n

Then, five years ago, Richard sat across from me at our kitchen table and destroyed everything I thought I knew.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ve been seeing someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n

That’s all he said.<\/p>\n

No name.<\/p>\n

No explanation.<\/p>\n

No attempt to save our marriage.<\/p>\n

Just four words that turned thirty-eight years of memories into questions.<\/p>\n

I divorced him.<\/p>\n

I spent five years believing my husband had betrayed me.<\/p>\n

Then he died.<\/p>\n

And at his funeral, a woman I’d never seen before approached me and said:<\/p>\n

\u201cJulia, you need to know what your husband really did for you.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

What she told me changed the meaning of our entire marriage.<\/p>\n

\n

Part One: The Confession<\/h2>\n

Richard and I had been married for thirty-eight years.<\/p>\n

Our children, Gina and Alex, were grown.<\/p>\n

Our house was quieter than it used to be.<\/p>\n

The refrigerator was covered with photographs from birthdays, graduations, vacations, and holidays.<\/p>\n

There was nothing glamorous about our life.<\/p>\n

But I loved it.<\/p>\n

I loved waking up beside him.<\/p>\n

I loved the way he made pancakes every Sunday even though they were always slightly burned.<\/p>\n

I loved that he complained about the thermostat being too high while secretly turning it up when he thought I wasn’t looking.<\/p>\n

After nearly four decades, you stop thinking about love as something dramatic.<\/p>\n

It becomes habit.<\/p>\n

Comfort.<\/p>\n

Home.<\/p>\n

Then one Tuesday evening, Richard asked me to sit down at the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

I remember thinking he looked tired.<\/p>\n

Not ordinary tired.<\/p>\n

Something deeper.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

He stared at his hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to tell you something.\u201d<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

He took a breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ve been having an affair.\u201d<\/p>\n

For several seconds, I didn’t understand the sentence.<\/p>\n

I actually laughed.<\/p>\n

Not because it was funny.<\/p>\n

Because my brain couldn’t accept it.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ve been seeing another woman.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn’t answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long?\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cRichard, how long?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA while.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was all he gave me.<\/p>\n

No details.<\/p>\n

No name.<\/p>\n

No explanation.<\/p>\n

I waited for him to fight for us.<\/p>\n

He didn’t.<\/p>\n

I waited for him to apologize.<\/p>\n

He didn’t.<\/p>\n

Finally, I asked the question that destroyed whatever hope remained.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you love her?\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think you need to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n

I felt something inside me crack.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want me to leave?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think it’s better.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stood slowly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAfter thirty-eight years?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked away.<\/p>\n

I packed a suitcase that night.<\/p>\n

Three weeks later, I filed for divorce.<\/p>\n

\n

Part Two: Five Years Without Him<\/h2>\n

The divorce was ugly in all the quiet ways.<\/p>\n

There were no screaming matches.<\/p>\n

No dramatic courtroom battles.<\/p>\n

Just paperwork.<\/p>\n

Divided possessions.<\/p>\n

Changed addresses.<\/p>\n

Christmases where our children had to decide which parent they would visit first.<\/p>\n

Gina was furious with her father.<\/p>\n

Alex defended him less than I expected.<\/p>\n

But neither of them stopped loving him.<\/p>\n

I did.<\/p>\n

At least, I tried to.<\/p>\n

For the first year, I couldn’t say his name without feeling betrayed.<\/p>\n

For the second, I stopped checking whether he had called.<\/p>\n

By the third, I could look at our wedding photographs without crying.<\/p>\n

By the fifth, I had built a life that didn’t include him.<\/p>\n

Then Richard died.<\/p>\n

Pancreatic cancer.<\/p>\n

Stage four.<\/p>\n

That’s what I learned from Gina.<\/p>\n

He had been sick for years.<\/p>\n

I hadn’t known.<\/p>\n

Nobody had told me.<\/p>\n

When I heard the news, I didn’t cry.<\/p>\n

I simply sat on my sofa and stared at the wall.<\/p>\n

The strange thing about grief is that sometimes it doesn’t arrive as sadness.<\/p>\n

Sometimes it arrives as disbelief.<\/p>\n

Richard was dead.<\/p>\n

The man I had loved for thirty-eight years was gone.<\/p>\n

And I had spent the last five believing he had chosen someone else over me.<\/p>\n

I decided to attend the funeral.<\/p>\n

Not because I wanted him back.<\/p>\n

Not because I had forgiven him.<\/p>\n

I simply wanted to say goodbye.<\/p>\n

\n

Part Three: The Woman in the Gray Dress<\/h2>\n

The church was almost full.<\/p>\n

Our children sat in the front row.<\/p>\n

I stayed near the back.<\/p>\n

I didn’t want anyone looking at me.<\/p>\n

I didn’t want anyone wondering whether I was grieving the man I had divorced.<\/p>\n

During the second hymn, I noticed a woman sitting alone.<\/p>\n

Gray dress.<\/p>\n

Silver hair.<\/p>\n

Hands folded tightly in her lap.<\/p>\n

And she kept staring at Richard’s casket.<\/p>\n

Not the way a stranger looks at a funeral.<\/p>\n

The way someone looks at a person they knew intimately.<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

I thought immediately:<\/p>\n

The other woman.<\/strong><\/p>\n

After the service, I waited until people began leaving.<\/p>\n

Then I approached her.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked up.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you know Richard?\u201d<\/p>\n

She hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

My heart sank.<\/p>\n

\u201cWere you the woman he was seeing?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her eyes widened.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wasn’t sure whether to believe her.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen who are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Charlotte.\u201d<\/p>\n

She took a slow breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was Richard’s hospice nurse.\u201d<\/p>\n

The hallway seemed to tilt beneath me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHospice?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wasn’t sick when I knew him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlotte looked at me with unbearable sadness.<\/p>\n

\u201cJulia\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She reached into her purse.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn’t want you to know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKnow what?\u201d<\/p>\n

She handed me a folded hospital document.<\/p>\n

My hands trembled as I opened it.<\/p>\n

The diagnosis was unmistakable.<\/p>\n

Stage IV pancreatic cancer.<\/strong><\/p>\n

My mouth went dry.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFive years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

The same year Richard confessed to cheating.<\/p>\n

The same year our marriage ended.<\/p>\n

I looked up at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe knew?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe knew he was dying.\u201d<\/p>\n

My knees weakened.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlotte’s voice softened.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he didn’t want you to spend the rest of your life taking care of him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n

Part Four: The Truth<\/h2>\n

I couldn’t speak.<\/p>\n

Charlotte continued.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe refused aggressive treatment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he’d already watched his mother spend years caring for his father through a terminal illness.\u201d<\/p>\n

She paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me he would never do that to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shook my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe could have told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI would have stayed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI would have taken care of him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was when Charlotte began crying.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe knew that too.\u201d<\/p>\n

She handed me another document.<\/p>\n

At the top was a handwritten instruction.<\/p>\n

DO NOT CONTACT JULIA UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Underneath was Richard’s signature.<\/p>\n

Five years old.<\/p>\n

My fingers went numb.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me that if you ever found out,\u201d Charlotte said, \u201cI should give you everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEverything?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cEverything he wrote.\u201d<\/p>\n

She handed me an envelope.<\/p>\n

My name was written across the front.<\/p>\n

In Richard’s handwriting.<\/p>\n

The handwriting I had seen on grocery lists.<\/p>\n

Birthday cards.<\/p>\n

Notes stuck to the refrigerator.<\/p>\n

The handwriting I had spent five years trying to forget.<\/p>\n

I couldn’t open it there.<\/p>\n

So I took it home.<\/p>\n

\n

Part Five: The Letter<\/h2>\n

That evening, I sat on the porch.<\/p>\n

The same porch where Richard and I had spent countless summer evenings.<\/p>\n

The hydrangeas were blooming.<\/p>\n

The air was warm.<\/p>\n

Everything looked exactly the same.<\/p>\n

Except he was gone.<\/p>\n

I opened the envelope.<\/p>\n

The first line nearly destroyed me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy Julia.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

I had to stop reading.<\/p>\n

Then I continued.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cIf you are reading this, then I am finally gone, and you finally know the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

My vision blurred.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cThere was never another woman.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

For five years, I had imagined another woman.<\/p>\n

I had hated her.<\/p>\n

I had imagined her face.<\/p>\n

Her voice.<\/p>\n

The life she supposedly shared with my husband.<\/p>\n

There had never been anyone.<\/p>\n

Richard continued.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cWhen the doctor told me I was dying, my first thought was you.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Then came the words that broke my heart.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cI knew exactly what you would do.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I could almost hear his voice.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cYou would stay. You would stop living your own life. You would feed me soup. You would sit beside my bed. You would watch me disappear.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I pressed the letter against my chest.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cAnd I couldn’t let you do that.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

The tears finally came.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cYou would have called it love. I would have called it stealing the rest of your life.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I whispered his name.<\/p>\n

\u201cRichard\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Then I read the sentence that I would remember for the rest of my life.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cI needed you to hate me more than you loved me, just long enough to walk away.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I couldn’t breathe.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cI’m sorry I took the choice away from you.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u201cBut I knew you would choose me.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u201cAnd I loved you too much to let my death become yours.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

The final page was covered in words.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cI needed you to live, my love.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u201cI needed you to find mornings that didn’t begin with hospital alarms.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u201cI needed you to laugh without wondering whether I was in pain.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u201cI needed you to have a future.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Then:<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cI loved you until the end.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I put the letter down.<\/p>\n

For five years, I had believed Richard had thrown our marriage away.<\/p>\n

Now I understood.<\/p>\n

He had destroyed it because he believed that was the only way to save me.<\/p>\n

And somehow, that hurt even more.<\/p>\n

\n

Part Six: The Anger That Remained<\/h2>\n

The next morning, I called Gina and Alex.<\/p>\n

They came over.<\/p>\n

I put the letter on the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

Neither of them spoke for several minutes.<\/p>\n

Finally, Gina whispered:<\/p>\n

\u201cDad knew?\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe knew he was dying.\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex picked up the letter.<\/p>\n

He read silently.<\/p>\n

Then tears began running down his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did this so Mom wouldn’t take care of him.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at my son.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gina shook her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds like Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

I frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe always tried to fix things himself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex laughed sadly.<\/p>\n

\u201cEven things nobody asked him to fix.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at the letter.<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand why he did it.\u201d<\/p>\n

My children looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I don’t forgive him for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

They were quiet.<\/p>\n

\u201cI loved him enough to stay,\u201d I continued. \u201cHe didn’t trust me enough to let me decide.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was the part nobody could argue with.<\/p>\n

Richard had saved me from becoming his caretaker.<\/p>\n

But he had also stolen five years of truth from me.<\/p>\n

He had made me grieve a marriage that had never actually betrayed me.<\/p>\n

He had allowed me to hate him.<\/p>\n

And I wasn’t sure whether that was noble or cruel.<\/p>\n

Maybe it was both.<\/p>\n

\n

Part Seven: The Final Gift<\/h2>\n

A week later, Alex came to my house carrying a folder.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

He placed it on the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad left this for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Inside was a deed.<\/p>\n

I read the address.<\/p>\n

My hands froze.<\/p>\n

The lake cabin.<\/p>\n

Our lake cabin.<\/p>\n

The little place where we had spent our happiest summers.<\/p>\n

Where Gina learned to swim.<\/p>\n

Where Alex caught his first fish.<\/p>\n

Where Richard and I had once danced barefoot on the porch during a thunderstorm.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought we sold this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe never did.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at Alex.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was in your name.\u201d<\/p>\n

I couldn’t speak.<\/p>\n

Then I saw the sticky note attached to the deed.<\/p>\n

Richard’s handwriting again.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep the porch light on, my love.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Below it:<\/p>\n

\u201cIn case the kids come back.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Then one final line.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd in case you want to watch the water again.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

I touched the words with my fingertips.<\/p>\n

At the bottom, he had written:<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll be there. Just not where you can see.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

For five years, I had thought Richard left me nothing but betrayal.<\/p>\n

He had actually been quietly building a future for me.<\/p>\n

\n

Part Eight: The Choice He Couldn’t Make for Me<\/h2>\n

That afternoon, I drove to the lake.<\/p>\n

The cabin looked exactly as I remembered.<\/p>\n

The porch needed painting.<\/p>\n

The screen door still squeaked.<\/p>\n

The old wooden swing was slightly crooked.<\/p>\n

I walked inside.<\/p>\n

Everything smelled like dust, pine, and memories.<\/p>\n

I opened the curtains.<\/p>\n

Sunlight spilled across the floor.<\/p>\n

Then I noticed the porch light.<\/p>\n

It still worked.<\/p>\n

I turned it on.<\/p>\n

And for the first time in five years, I cried for my husband.<\/p>\n

Not the man who had supposedly cheated on me.<\/p>\n

Not the man I had hated.<\/p>\n

The man who had been terrified of dying.<\/p>\n

The man who had loved me so desperately that he had convinced himself breaking my heart was kinder than asking me to watch him die.<\/p>\n

It was a terrible kind of love.<\/p>\n

A flawed kind.<\/p>\n

A love that made decisions without permission.<\/p>\n

But it had been love.<\/p>\n

Real love.<\/p>\n

And suddenly, the anger that had kept me standing for five years began to loosen.<\/p>\n

Not disappear.<\/p>\n

I wasn’t ready to forgive everything.<\/p>\n

Maybe I never would.<\/p>\n

But I could finally grieve honestly.<\/p>\n

Richard hadn’t abandoned me.<\/p>\n

He had sacrificed his place in my life so I could continue living it.<\/p>\n

He had chosen to become the villain in my story.<\/p>\n

And he had stayed there until the end.<\/p>\n

\n

Part Nine: The Porch Light<\/h2>\n

That evening, Gina and Alex arrived at the cabin.<\/p>\n

We sat together on the porch.<\/p>\n

Nobody spoke for a long time.<\/p>\n

Then Gina leaned her head against my shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think Dad was wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked out across the lake.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked surprised.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I also think he loved me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cBoth can be true.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled sadly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sun disappeared behind the trees.<\/p>\n

The lake became dark and still.<\/p>\n

And the porch light remained on.<\/p>\n

I finally understood what Richard had been trying to give me.<\/p>\n

Not a replacement for our marriage.<\/p>\n

Not an apology.<\/p>\n

Not even forgiveness.<\/p>\n

A future.<\/p>\n

One that belonged to me.<\/p>\n

Five years ago, he had made the choice for both of us.<\/p>\n

Now, for the first time, I was making my own.<\/p>\n

I would keep the cabin.<\/p>\n

I would keep the porch light on.<\/p>\n

I would remember him.<\/p>\n

But I would live.<\/p>\n

Because that was the one thing Richard had wanted from me all along.<\/p>\n

And as I watched the light reflecting across the dark water, I whispered the words I hadn’t been able to say for five years.<\/p>\n

\u201cI loved you too.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Then I looked toward the lake.<\/p>\n

And for the first time since he left me, I felt no betrayal.<\/p>\n

Only love.<\/p>\n

And grief.<\/p>\n

And the strange, painful peace of finally knowing the truth.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For thirty-eight years, I believed I knew my husband. Richard and I had built the kind of marriage people described as ordinary. Sunday pancakes. Shared grocery lists. Arguments over whose turn it was to fix the leaky faucet. Forty years of photographs where we were always standing beside each other. It wasn’t perfect. But it…<\/p>\n

CONTINUE READING >>> “My Husband Confessed to Cheating After 38 Years of Marriage \u2014 Five Years Later, at His Funeral, a Stranger Whispered, \u201cYou Need to Know What Your Husband Did for You\u201d”<\/span> »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10945,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10944","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10944","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10944"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10944\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10946,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10944\/revisions\/10946"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10945"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10944"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10944"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/teknonoktasi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10944"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}