My wife was rushed to the emergency room from a hotel late at night. The doctor said it was a corpus luteum rupture, caused by excessively strenuous sexual activity. I lost my mind, hunting for the man responsible. It turned out to be Ryan, my closest friend, someone I trusted with my life. Fine. Since your love runs so deep, I’ll personally send you both straight to hell. At 2 AM, an ambulance wailed to a halt outside the Red Pillow Hotel. Ten minutes later, a woman was carried out on a stretcher. Her face and upper body were covered by a bath towel, and she was curled up, clearly in immense pain. Soon after, videos from various angles started circulating on TikTok. When I first scrolled past it, I was in full spectator mode, even joking in the comments that I’d heard of guys getting worn out, but never a woman getting *damaged* like that. Until I inadvertently saw the bracelet on the woman’s dangling wrist – identical to the one I’d given my wife for our fifth anniversary just a short while ago. My heart lurched, a cold dread seizing me like a gun pressed to my back. No, it couldn’t be. Impossible. Scarlett was supposedly away on a business trip to Seattle these past few days. I’d even booked her flight ticket myself. It’s just a bracelet, right? Even if it’s a niche, hard-to-find design, it’s not impossible for someone else to have it. And women with similar figures are common. I tried to reassure myself, but at the same time, I frantically searched for videos from other angles. Most were blurry. I scrolled for ages, finding only one, taken from close up, that clearly showed her hand. I slowed the playback to the absolute minimum, examining it frame by frame. That familiar, diamond-studded white manicure, glinting under the lights, stabbed at my eyes. It was her. Scarlett. My wife of three years, was cheating on me. 2 In that instant, I felt all the blood rush to my head. My hand, clutching the phone, trembled uncontrollably. A searing mix of humiliation and fury burned in my chest, a dull ache that made it hard to breathe. Even though I’d scoured every video, I hadn’t seen any suspicious male figure. But Scarlett’s affair was an undeniable fact. Otherwise, how could she explain being carried out of a hotel, disheveled and bare-legged, claiming she was on a business trip? I didn’t even dare to imagine why she needed an ambulance. The comments section was already ablaze with every insulting possibility. I grabbed a jacket, ran downstairs, got in my car, and drove straight to the hospital emergency room. The attending nurse gave me a complex look when I identified myself as Scarlett’s husband. It was a mix of embarrassment and pity, which made the rage I’d been suppressing flare up again. She pointed to a room at the end of the hallway, saying Scarlett was on an IV drip and was now out of danger. “What’s wrong with her?” Even now, pathetically, a sliver of worry still gnawed at me. But the next second, that sliver of worry turned into a gallon of fuel poured onto my burning anger. “Corpus luteum rupture.” The nurse paused, looked at me, and then added, “It was caused by excessively strenuous sexual activity.” My mind buzzed. It felt like a thousand tiny voices were mocking me. Excessively strenuous sexual activity… I thought of my wife’s usual cold demeanor at home and felt utterly ridiculous and pathetic. In our three years of marriage, Scarlett had always been indifferent to sex, never initiating. Twice out of three times, she’d make excuses to avoid intimacy. Even when she agreed, she’d just lie there in the dark room after I’d turned off the lights, passively going through the motions. I’d always thought she was naturally reserved, unable to let loose. Turns out, she just couldn’t let loose *with me*. With another man, she could be so passionate it led to a corpus luteum rupture… I didn’t go into the room. I turned and left the hospital. I lit a cigarette, taking deep drags. The earlier blaze of fury now seemed to cool into a chilling resolve. It was hard to accept, but it had happened. I had to face it. At the very least, I needed to know who that man was. 3 The hotel refused to provide any guest’s private information, citing customer privacy. But the front desk did confirm that Scarlett had checked in with a man, and it was that man who called the ambulance after the “incident.” However, after Scarlett was taken away on the stretcher, the man had hurriedly checked out and slipped away through a side entrance. Since the hotel couldn’t provide any useful information, I had no choice but to go home for now. By then, the sky was already faintly light. I collapsed, exhausted, onto the couch. I instinctively grabbed the framed wedding photo next to me and tossed it into the trash can. This marriage? It was over. No man on earth could endure this kind of humiliation and continue living as if nothing happened. But before the divorce, some debts needed to be settled. I’d always believed I treated her well, and her family, too, had benefited greatly from my help. I never imagined this was how she’d repay me. If that’s the case, then she shouldn’t blame me for being ruthless. Scarlett was my college sweetheart. Her family came from a modest, blue-collar background, and she had a deadbeat younger brother. The first time I visited her home, my future mother-in-law immediately hit me with a demand for a hefty $300,000 settlement. I hesitated for a moment, not refusing outright, but her mother’s face immediately fell. She told me to get lost. She boasted that Scarlett was highly educated and beautiful, with suitors lined up around the block, so she had no trouble finding a husband. If I was stingy with the money, I shouldn’t waste her daughter’s time. I considered myself a good catch. I owned my house and car outright. My parents worked for the government, and I was their only child. After college, I joined my Uncle Arthur’s company. I was doing well, and my future looked bright. I thought I’d be the ideal son-in-law in her mother’s eyes, but I was wrong… My parents, hearing about her mother’s attitude, urged me to break up with her. They said a woman like that would be endless trouble. But Scarlett cried and chased me to my doorstep, apologizing profusely for her mother. She said if we really broke up, her mother would force her to marry an almost fifty-year-old man from their small town. Three days later, I returned to her house with $300,000 cash in a briefcase, and the marriage was set. But that $300,000 was just the beginning. From then on, my mother-in-law and Caleb would ask for money every other week, coming up with endless excuses: business ventures, home renovations, technical training. They called it borrowing, but they never paid it back. Over three years, they took nearly two hundred thousand dollars from me. Caleb was irresponsible, gambling, partying, and getting into all sorts of trouble. Every few days, he’d cause a scene, and I’d be the one cleaning up his messes. I’d had enough a long time ago. But every time I saw Scarlett’s tear-reddened eyes pleading with me, I couldn’t bring myself to abandon them. Now that I was getting a divorce, I could finally shake off this rotten burden. Scarlett married me with nothing, not even a job – I was the one who arranged that for her. Thinking back, Scarlett really just played me for everything. Then she can leave with nothing. I immediately contacted a lawyer to draft divorce papers. I also reached out to friends, paying them to help delete those videos. I couldn’t afford that kind of public humiliation. Just as I finished all this, Scarlett suddenly returned. 4 Her face was pale, her eyes darted nervously, and she looked utterly weak, practically leaning against the wall as she entered. She must have heard from the nurse that I’d been to the hospital, realizing she couldn’t hide it any longer. She half-knelt before the sofa, clutching my arm and sobbing. It was the same pitiful act. But now, I just felt disgusted. I roughly shook off her hand, sat up straight, and forced myself to control the urge to strike her. Scarlett swayed, then fell to the floor. She winced, clutching her lower abdomen, and gasped in pain. That motion completely ignited my fury. “Stomach hurts, huh? Must have been quite a workout.” “Scarlett, you truly are beyond belief.” “Tell me, who is that man, and how long has this been going on?” My fists were clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. Scarlett, like a startled rabbit, shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face, speaking incoherently. “No, no, it was just this once, the very first time, Liam, you have to believe me…” “I just… I lost my head for a moment, Liam, I know I messed up, it will never happen again…” She sobbed, begging for my forgiveness, but she wouldn’t utter his name. Such deep affection, apparently. I remembered in college, the first time I ever got into a fight was because some petty thug flirted with Scarlett right in front of me. That time, I put the guy in the hospital and it cost me five thousand dollars. Scarlett was trembling with fear back then. I put my arm around her and said, “If anyone ever touches you again, I’ll chop off their hands.” It was just the wild talk of a hot-headed youth. The man I was now was no longer so impulsive. But seeing Scarlett’s terrified, nervous expression, it was as if she genuinely feared I’d go and chop off her lover’s hands. How ridiculous. When I fought that thug for her back then, she was hiding far away. Now, she’s learned to protect another man. I thought of how I’d argued so fiercely with my parents to marry her. Telling them she was gentle and virtuous, pure and sweet, that she’d be a wonderful wife and daughter-in-law. All those words now felt like slaps across my face. “Let’s get a divorce.” My head throbbed. I didn’t want to drag this out any longer. I stood up, dropped the words, and started to leave. I would just consider these past few years wasted. Whether it was her first time cheating or her tenth, it made no difference to me. Scarlett froze, then scrambled to her feet, stumbling forward to hug my leg. “No, please don’t, I know I messed up, just this once, please forgive me…” “Liam, you can’t let our child grow up without a father…” Scarlett’s words struck me like a thunderclap. “What child?” My hands trembled almost imperceptibly. Scarlett’s eyes lit up, as if she’d found a lifeline. “Liam, it’s our baby, I’m pregnant.” “Last night, last night I only found out after my ultrasound…” “I was going to wait for a happier moment to tell you.” “Liam, you can’t abandon our baby and me…” Scarlett’s voice rang in my ears, but it slowly faded away. 5 “How many months?” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Just one month.” Scarlett smiled ingratiatingly, coming closer to put her arms around my neck. “Liam, from now on, our family of three will live happily together, okay?” “Mom and Dad will be so happy when they hear they’re going to be grandparents.” Yes, they had been hoping for a grandchild since we got married, but… “Liam, what’s wrong?” Scarlett noticed my strange behavior and asked nervously. “Nothing.” I snapped back to reality, subtly pushing her away. “Why are you discharged already? Your body isn’t fully recovered, is it?” At that, Scarlett’s eyes reddened again. She said the doctor didn’t allow it, but she snuck out herself. She knew I was angry and wanted to explain face-to-face. As she said this, Scarlett put on that fragile, pitiful act again, as if *I* were the one at fault. “Since you’re pregnant, focus on recovering first.” “We’ll discuss everything else after you’re discharged.” Perhaps sensing a hint of compromise in my words, she seemed to visibly relax, nodding at me through her tears. I avoided her gaze, personally drove her back to the hospital, and saw the pregnancy test report. She was indeed pregnant. Watching her being ordered by the doctor to lie down for an IV, I made an excuse about work and left. Walking out of the hospital, I could no longer contain the burning rage. I slammed my fist against a tree trunk. Those despicable bastards! Scarlett was pregnant, true, but the child wasn’t mine. In these past few years of marriage, I always felt I wasn’t ready to be a father, and Scarlett hadn’t been enthusiastic about having children either. Out of consideration for her body, I’d secretly gotten male birth control pills from the doctor. I hadn’t told anyone about this. I never thought Scarlett would not only cheat on me but also try to pass off another man’s child as mine. She claimed it was “just this once,” but she was already pregnant! Initially, I had thought of just divorcing her, a clean break. But now, it seemed, I needed a long-term plan. Every humiliation I had suffered, I would demand repayment for, every single one. Back home, I retrieved Scarlett’s phone from under a throw pillow. Earlier, she had been too weak and anxious, too focused on clinging to me, to notice me subtly slipping her phone into the sofa cushion. When I hurried her out, she completely forgot about it. I knew Scarlett’s phone password. Her contact list and chat history showed nothing suspicious. But when I tried to switch accounts, I found she had indeed hidden a secondary account. After logging in with a text verification code, there was only one person in her secondary account’s friend list. Clicking into that person’s social media, in countless shared photos, Scarlett was nestled in his arms, smiling sweetly and charmingly. I stared at that man’s face for a long time, feeling as if ice water had been poured over my entire body. It was him, after all.
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