I found a red lace thong tucked into the couch in my husband’s office. I didn’t make a scene or throw a fit. I quietly put it away. On the day of the shareholders’ meeting, I peeled off the one-way window film from his office glass. And so, without any idea what was happening, my husband stripped the intern naked and pressed her against the glass in full view of over 300 shareholders and employees. He loves excitement, doesn’t he? Well, I’ll give him all the excitement he can handle! I went to my husband’s office after a meeting to bring him some cake. The moment I sat down on the couch, something felt off. The couch was warm, clearly just used by someone else. The warm area was bigger than just one person sitting—more like someone had been lying here? I looked closer and spotted a red lace thong wedged between the couch cushions. My head buzzed like thunder, my heart racing wildly. “What’s wrong, honey?” My husband, Nathan Hayes, wrapped his arms around me affectionately. I froze, unable to move. Before I could react, I saw the intern walk in wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse with a neckline so low it exposed half her chest, marked with suggestive traces. She seemed to smile at me provocatively. Combined with the strange sounds I’d heard outside the office door just moments ago… I was completely stunned. In broad daylight—while I’d just been in the conference room next door meeting with department managers—he was fooling around with the new intern, Hannah Lewis, in his office? My heart felt like it had been stabbed with a sharp blade. It hurt so much. “Wow, this cake looks delicious! Mr. Hayes, can I have a bite?” Hannah batted her eyes playfully at Nathan. Nathan smirked and smiled. The familiarity between them didn’t match what you’d expect from a superior and subordinate who’d only known each other for two months. “Go ahead if you want some.” Only after saying that did Nathan glance at me, adding as an afterthought: “Haha, my doctor said my blood sugar’s a bit high, told me to cut back on sweets.” He casually handed the cake to Hannah, his expression relaxed and natural, without the slightest hint of guilt.
I glanced at the dozen or so photos of us kissing displayed on his desk. The tears welling up in my eyes, I forced back down. How could he do this—look at photos of me while messing around with another woman in his office? And that woman was Hannah? I didn’t lose my temper. Clinging to a thread of hope, I held it in until we got home that night. While he was in the shower, I checked his phone. “Honey, tomorrow in the office, wear that lolita-style lingerie set I bought you, okay?” “That depends on whether you can make me climax seven times in one hour.” “No problem. I’ll have you crying by the time you get to work. God, it’s been over two hours since we left work, and I already miss you so much! The moment I wake up, I need to go to the office and kiss you!” “What should we do? I’m so in love with you. How about next week we get matching couple tattoos?” “So bold. Aren’t you afraid your wife will find out?” Even though I’d prepared myself mentally, seeing the actual evidence made all the blood in my body feel like it had frozen solid. My body trembled from the cold. At that moment, Nathan’s phone wallpaper was still our wedding photo. How ironic. “Why are you looking at my phone?” Nathan’s face darkened. Without even wrapping a towel around himself, he rushed naked out of the bathroom and snatched the phone away. “You and Hannah seem pretty close, don’t you?” “Can you not interfere with my freedom? I’m allowed to have friends of the opposite sex.” I smiled bitterly as tears spun uncontrollably in my eyes. When we were dating, he’d directly added my fingerprint to his phone and said, “Feel free to read my messages anytime. Anyone in my contacts you don’t like, delete them.” Five years ago, when he was pursuing me, he sent me a bouquet of roses every single day, saying he wanted to marry me from the moment he first saw me. Three years ago, when we got married, facing my father’s difficult demands—that he marry into our family, that our future children take my father’s surname, that he work late into the night every day and become a qualified successor within three years— he never showed the slightest hesitation or reluctance. Even with a 102-degree fever, he insisted on attending meetings, earning unanimous approval from both old and new company employees. No matter how late his business dinners ran, he always came home. He never stayed out overnight. Our dating anniversary, our wedding anniversary, Valentine’s Day, my birthday—he never forgot any of them. He always carefully prepared a gift for me. Everyone said he was the model of a perfect husband. I didn’t understand. If he treated me so well, why would he cheat? Was it really true that no man could resist cheating? My heart died. My first thought was divorce.
I went back to my father’s house that very night and told Dad that Nathan had cheated and I wanted a divorce. Dad looked down at the documents in his hand, not even lifting his head: “That just proves you’re a woman without charm, unable to keep your husband, so your husband had no choice but to run to another woman’s bed.” My breath caught. My heart grew even colder. Years ago, when he cheated and abandoned my mother, did he say the same thing to her? “Anyway, cheating doesn’t hurt men. As long as he comes home, that’s all that matters.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms painfully, and said word by word: “I want a divorce.” “Don’t even think about it. If you want to blame something, blame yourself for not having children yet. Hurry up and have a baby. Don’t let some woman out there have his child first. Otherwise, you’ll have to split the assets with some illegitimate kid.” My chest felt tight and stuffy. Through gritted teeth, I said: “I’ll agree not to divorce on one condition—give me the CEO position. You originally promised it to me…” With a “whoosh,” Dad grabbed the documents in front of him and violently threw them at my head. “You? A woman? What ability do you have to inherit my company?” “I told you long ago to stop daydreaming!” Looking at the documents scattered on the floor, my heart grew even colder. Those were the annual summary reports I’d stayed up several nights to write. Summarizing my achievements over the past three years. Three years as sales champion. The first year I won sales champion, at the year-end party, Dad had me sit beside him, served me food, and said many encouraging and praising words. The second year I won, he gave me a thumbs up: “Worthy of being my daughter! If you win again next year, Dad’s position will be yours.” This was the third year. Even after he changed the sales policies on me, forcing me to double my performance targets, I still became sales champion. But he went back on his word. “At next week’s shareholders’ meeting, I’m handing the company over to Nathan. Don’t you dare make trouble. Just stay home and have babies like a good girl!” “It was you who insisted on marrying this poor boy in the first place. Otherwise, why would I have bothered training him?” “Dad, why have you never considered training me?” “Train you? What for? A woman should focus on being a good wife and mother at home. What business does she have showing her face in public all the time?” “Back then, if your mother had been worth anything and given me a few more sons, would I need to train an outsider as my successor?” I closed my eyes hard. I didn’t understand. I was his biological daughter, yet he’d rather trust Nathan, a complete outsider, than trust me? Just because I’m not a man?
“Oh honey, why are you so angry? Your blood pressure will go up, and I’ll feel so bad for you.” “Lydia, I’m not trying to criticize you, but Dad’s getting up there in years. Can’t you be a little more accommodating?” Hannah wore the same outfit from earlier that day, her neckline cut even lower now. She burrowed into my father’s arms—a man thirty years her senior. I truly admired her. Servicing my husband during the day, servicing my father at night. Clearly, my father had no idea he was being cuckolded by Nathan. Nathan’s nerve was truly remarkable—he dared touch my father’s mistress? I tested the waters, asking Hannah: “As one woman to another, if you were me and your husband cheated, how would you feel?” Hannah paused, then smiled: “I’d only blame myself for being incompetent.” “I’m not criticizing you, but you’re always busy with work and never bother to dress yourself up. How can you expect your husband to be interested in sleeping with you?” I wanted nothing more than to rush over and slap Hannah across the face right then. But thinking twice, that would be letting her off too easy. Mimicking her manner, I smiled at my father: “Dad, don’t you want to know who Nathan’s cheating with?” Hannah’s brow tightened. She shot me a glare: “Like I said, who doesn’t matter. What matters is you hurry up and give him a baby.” “Besides, you’re probably overthinking it. Look how busy Mr. Hayes is with work, spending all day working overtime in his office. Where would he find time to cheat?” Yes, I never imagined it either. This man who came home every day, who video-called me during lunch breaks, who rarely attended business dinners—I never thought he’d be keeping a mistress in his office. My father’s mistress, no less. As if afraid I’d say more, Hannah pressed her chest directly against my father’s face and cooed: “My birthday’s coming up, darling. What birthday present are you getting me?” “I’ll buy you an island and name it after you.” “Yay! Darling, you’re so good to me!” The two started making out right in front of me. On my mother’s birthday, when she came home, Dad had been rolling around on the couch with a female college student twenty years his junior in exactly the same way. Coincidentally, today was also my birthday. Nathan had forgotten. My father had forgotten too. Fine. If everyone wants to hurt me like this, then let’s all be destroyed together.
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