To punish me for my supposed infidelity, on Valentine’s Day Kellan brought his mistress Maya into our study and spent the night with her. Their moans echoed through the entire house. I knew Kellan wanted me to hear. Dawn was approaching when two final exhausted gasps came from next door. “Kellan, Skylar is right next door… What if she gets angry hearing us like this?” Maya’s sugary voice drifted through the wall. Kellan replied with a cold sneer, “She deserves this.” I let out a bitter laugh. There was a time when I would have fought with him just for glancing at another woman. But now… I genuinely didn’t care anymore. After eating alone and cleaning up, I checked social media and saw everyone showing off their romantic gestures—that’s how I remembered it was Valentine’s Day. I looked around the empty living room, feeling utterly alone. Kellan hadn’t come home in two weeks. Seeing it was only 8 PM, I turned off the lights and headed to bed. That’s when the door swung open. A man and woman stumbled inside, completely absorbed in a passionate kiss. I froze. Kellan’s hand gripped the back of Maya’s head, his kiss filled with raw possession. Noticing my presence, they paused and glanced over. Maya’s face flushed. “Kellan, your wife is home…” She tried to push him away, but he only held her tighter. Kellan’s cold gaze swept over me. “So what? Let’s continue.” Almost defiantly, Kellan scooped Maya into his arms. Amid her playful squeals, he carried her toward the study.
The study door slammed shut. Almost immediately, Maya’s giggles and Kellan’s heavy breathing became clearly audible. I closed my eyes, retrieved earplugs from the drawer, and returned to the master bedroom. Lying in the dark, sleep wouldn’t come. I reached for the bedside table, grabbed a small plastic bottle, and swallowed two sleeping pills. After a moment’s thought, I took two more. For the past two years, sleeping pills were the only way I could get any rest. It all started around that time— Kellan began fooling around with different women. None of them lasted more than three months—he changed women faster than most people change clothes. Except for Maya. She was a freshly graduated, sweet-faced college student who became his assistant right after graduation. She wanted money, he wanted beauty—they ended up in bed quickly. By this Valentine’s Day, it had been exactly one year. My mother-in-law warned me anxiously, “Be careful of that girl. She’s cunning. Kellan fooling around is one thing, but I don’t want this to end in divorce!” I just smiled. Even my usually tolerant mother-in-law could see—Kellan truly cared about Maya.
The noise from the next room grew louder. I rolled over and tried to sleep. Thanks to the sleeping pills, I managed to fall into a light doze about ten minutes later. The nightmares returned. A dark, decaying warehouse. My hands and feet tied. A grotesque, leering face approaching. I was a lamb awaiting slaughter, screaming in despair. The scene shifted to Kellan’s livid face as he gave me the silent treatment. “Skylar, you slept with another man, putting one green hat after another on my head. Do you really think I won’t hit you?” The veins on his neck bulged. His raised fist slammed into the wall instead, leaving bloodstains. He ignored my tearful explanations. He stopped me from calling the police. When I knelt, begging him to forget it happened, his eyes held nothing but disgust. “Skylar, you’ve dirtied yourself. What right do you have to make demands?” He shook me off and walked away without looking back. I often woke at midnight, my face wet with tears. Kellan’s disgusted eyes haunted me. Two years had passed since the incident. He never touched me again. He thought I was dirty.
I woke up crying, gasping for air. The sounds from next door still drifted through the wall. They were still at it. As my emotions settled, I checked my phone in the dark—only 12:30 AM. I lay back down, staring blankly at the ceiling. Two full years had passed since the assault. Yet it remained a nightmare that trapped me anytime. I couldn’t understand why those thugs kidnapped me, assaulted me in that dark abandoned warehouse. Then knocked me out, took me to a hotel, and staged it to look like a consensual affair. And so conveniently, Kellan showed up to “catch” me. I was humiliated, photographed, pointed at, cursed. Everyone thought Mrs. Evans cheated because she was lonely. I said I was assaulted. No one believed me. Kellan’s face darkened. His first reaction was to choke me, demanding through gritted teeth, “What didn’t I give you, that you had to betray me like this?” “Tell me, Skylar.” In our years of marriage, he’d been incredibly good to me. We were deeply in love, devoted to each other. But I never betrayed him. In utter despair, I knelt, begging him to believe I was set up, that I was assaulted. Kellan watched me coldly, silent for a long time, then laughed. “Skylar, do you still think I’m a fool?” He didn’t believe my explanation. He coldly pushed me away and left. I clutched his sleeve desperately, pleading for his belief. “Skylar, don’t touch me.” “You’re filthy.” Kellan pried my fingers off one by one and walked away without looking back.
After that, Kellan avoided me, often disappearing for ten days or two weeks at a time. He wouldn’t answer calls or texts. His assistant told me, “Mr. Evans bought a studio apartment near the company.” That was probably when he started drinking heavily. And fooling around with different women. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t believe me. He resented me for my supposed betrayal and lies. Over two years, I tried explaining hundreds of times. He never believed a word. Eventually, I grew tired. “Kellan, let’s get a divorce.” I waited outside his company for five hours to see him and proposed divorce. But Kellan, arm around a young woman, refused to even look at me. “Why should I agree just because you want a divorce?” “Those who cheat deserve to suffer,” Kellan turned, his gaze colder than ice. “Skylar, I’ll keep you trapped in this marriage. Let you taste the bitterness of betrayal.” The racket from next door pulled me from my thoughts. Kellan’s gasps and voice intertwined. “Maya, say my name.” “Louder.” Maya obediently complied. My heart ached with sour bitterness. I closed my eyes. I knew Kellan was doing this on purpose. He wanted to punish me. Two years later, he still never tired of it. Dawn was near when two final exhausted gasps came from next door. “Kellan, Skylar is right next door… What if she gets angry hearing us?” Maya’s performative, artificial voice came through. Kellan replied with a cold sneer, “Since when do I care if she’s angry?” I let out a bitter laugh. There was a time I’d have raged hysterically if he even made eye contact with another woman. But now… I genuinely didn’t care.
As Kellan carried Maya out of the study toward the bathroom, I was sitting on the living room sofa. “Kellan, we need to talk.” Kellan’s steps faltered. He didn’t turn or acknowledge me, just set Maya down and gently patted her back. “Go wash up first, sweetheart.” Kellan walked over casually, picked up a cup from the table, and raised it to his lips. I reminded him, “That’s my cup.” Kellan paused, disgust flashing in his eyes. He set the cup down. “Alright, talk. What about?” “About our divorce.” I slid the pre-printed divorce papers toward him. “Kellan, I know we got married in a country where divorce was difficult, but I’ve checked. International marriage laws have synced now. We can get divorced.” “Since you’ve found someone new… I want to wish you both well.” Kellan stared at the divorce papers, his expression growing colder. He didn’t move to take them. After a long silence, he looked up at me. “Did you and your lover plan this? Once you’re divorced, he’ll marry you?” His tone dripped with open sarcasm. I was still caught off guard. No matter how many times I explained, He was convinced I cheated. Since he insisted on misunderstanding, let him. The truth didn’t matter anymore. I smiled faintly. “Yes. So wish me happiness.”
A week ago, I got my medical report. Lymphoma. Seeing those words on the report, I couldn’t help but feel dazed for a moment. The doctor said my poor emotional state over the past two years had wrecked my health. Besides lymphoma, I had many other minor issues. Blood cancer is incurable. Cancer cells spread through the bloodstream. There’s no cure. That day, I tried to schedule a meeting with Kellan to discuss divorce, hoping to see him on our anniversary. He replied: “Busy. Maya wants me with her.” Later, I thought maybe it was better to die quietly alone. Kellan, though stubborn, Was a man of loyalty. Given how we once loved each other, he’d surely handle my funeral. I wouldn’t be a wandering ghost. But I never expected him to bring Maya home that night. It was clear Kellan truly liked Maya—both emotionally and physically. I smiled, pushing the divorce papers closer to him. “Maya seems like a good girl. If you’ve chosen her, treat her well. Don’t be fickle. Don’t break her heart.” Something I said must have triggered Kellan’s anger. He suddenly erupted, snatching the papers and tearing them to shreds. “Skylar, what right do you have to say these things to me?” There he went again. I sighed helplessly. “Kellan, I’m begging you. Stop this.” “I’m dying.” “Consider the divorce my final wish. Can’t you grant me that?” Kellan stared straight at me, a mocking smile twisting his lips. “Skylar, is fooling me that fun?”
“You’re just jealous because Maya and I had fun last night, right? What game are you playing now?” I shook my head. “Really, I’m not.” Kellan suddenly stood up, pinning me against the wall. I instinctively wanted to say “Don’t touch me, you’re dirty.” But the next moment, Kellan’s arm wrapped around my waist. “Skylar, is this you giving in?” “If you apologize and yield, I’ll—” “Kellan! I can’t open the toothpaste cap! Come help me!” The affectedly sweet voice from the bathroom cut Kellan off. He looked at me silently. Seeing I was still pushing him away, Kellan laughed self-mockingly and released me. His eyes still on me, he answered Maya, “Coming.” Kellan pushed the bathroom door open. I turned and entered the study. My diagnostic report was in the study. Since Kellan refused to believe me, I’d show him the proof. The study was a mess. The trash can was full of used sex toys. I reached for the report but noticed a phone lighting up on the desk. A pink phone case—must be Maya’s. I glanced casually. Then froze. Her wallpaper was a photo of a smiling Maya, arm-in-arm with another man, making a peace sign. I stared dead at the man’s face. My entire body went rigid. My heart felt squeezed tight. I couldn’t breathe. That man’s face—the dark abandoned warehouse—I could never forget it! But how… could he be in Maya’s phone?
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