I had just given birth to my daughter a month ago when my husband, Garrett, wanted to have sex with me. I refused, but then I discovered his chat history as a client of prostitutes. The photo showed a young, fair-skinned girl with a seductive gaze. My supposedly frugal husband was even trying to haggle the price by playing the pity card to save money. I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. A man who’s been tainted should stay as far away as possible. My husband, Garrett, was supposed to be a frugal, good man. But he was so stingy that he even tried to haggle with prostitutes by shedding crocodile tears. When I accidentally saw the disgusting chat history on his unlocked phone, I was instantly shaking with anger. It showed that on April 7th, he had found a local beauty on TikTok. He even compared prices and chose the cheapest one. When discussing the price, he tried to haggle by playing the pity card: “I have an 80-year-old mother and a newborn child to support… Can you give me a discount this time? How about $50 less?” After getting a compromise, the woman asked him to book a hotel room. He hesitated for a long time and asked if he could come to his home when his wife was out. The woman exploded with profanity: “You fucking cheapskate! You can’t even afford a room and still want to find a woman? Dream on! You poor bastard, your wife really hit the jackpot marrying you!” After that, she blocked my husband. I didn’t find any transfer records either. Apparently, it was his empty wallet that forced him to extinguish his lustful fire in its infancy. I remembered that April 7th was my birthday. That evening, Garrett had specially prepared a big dinner and even shamelessly said he wanted to have sex with me, which I refused because my body hadn’t recovered yet. I never expected he would turn around and try to hire a prostitute! No wonder they say that married men’s phones are almost always a sure bet – there’s no such thing as an absolutely clean man. But when I confronted him, Garrett showed no remorse at all. He even let out a disdainful “huh.” “You can still yell. I see you’re not weak at all,” he said. “I’m a man with normal physiological needs. What’s wrong with wanting to relax occasionally? I didn’t actually hire a prostitute. I’ve been holding back long enough during your pregnancy. I took care of you when you were in the hospital, bringing you food and helping you use the bathroom… Am I not good enough?” His words, accompanied by flying spittle, hit my face. He sounded so self-righteous. I silently closed my eyes. This was the consequence of my impulsive decision to marry and have a child, blinded by love. Smelling his breath, I suddenly felt nauseous and rushed to the bathroom to vomit. At that moment, I felt a dull pain in my lower abdomen. Sitting on the toilet, I noticed some bleeding. I felt weak and dizzy, with no strength left. “Honey, my stomach hurts, and I’m bleeding a little. Can you take me to the hospital first?” I asked. But Garrett thought I was faking it and scoffed. “Why are you making such a fuss? Stop pretending. Do you want me to call an ambulance and send you to the ICU?” His sarcasm was almost the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I blacked out and finally fainted next to the toilet. When I opened my eyes again, it was broad daylight, and I was lying in a hospital bed. The doctor happened to be doing rounds. “Patient Zoe in bed 07, you had postpartum hemorrhage last night. There were retained products of conception that weren’t fully expelled. Combined with emotional distress, mood swings can lead to postpartum hemorrhage.” Seeing my husband dozing off by the bed, his eyelids heavy with sleep, I quickly asked him where our child was. “I’ve already asked my mom to take care of her. Don’t worry, focus on getting better,” he said. Perhaps my pale and weak appearance stirred a bit of conscience in him. He held my hand guiltily and said, “Zoe, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I had a few drinks yesterday and dared to lose my temper with you. I forgot you haven’t fully recovered after giving birth.” I narrowed my eyes and pulled my hand away from his. He should know what explanation I was waiting for. Garrett sighed. “I did… look for women online, but I’m frugal and didn’t actually go through with it! As you saw, I was just curious for a moment. I really know I was wrong.”
Before this, I had never checked my husband’s phone. It stemmed from my belief in the beauty of marriage, thinking that trust should come first between spouses. But this accidental discovery of his online search for women made me doubt everything. Garrett said he didn’t dare to actually go through with it, fearing sexually transmitted diseases. He just thought about it. “How could I dare to hire a prostitute? I was just frustrated during your postpartum period. You wouldn’t agree to have sex, so I had some wayward thoughts. But I definitely wouldn’t dare to actually do it. I was just talking to satisfy my urges,” he said. That night, he wrote me a promise letter and repeatedly apologized until I finally let the matter drop. However, I still felt uneasy deep down. After being discharged and recovering, I went to vent to my best friend. My best friend had just ended a failed marriage, the reason being her husband’s infidelity. I told her, “Garrett’s emotional cheating, I guess. After all, he didn’t actually hire a prostitute or find a mistress. Our child is still so young, maybe I can tolerate it for now.” But my friend said I had “pregnancy brain.” “Do you know what my ex-husband said when we divorced? Out of ten men over thirty, nine have hired prostitutes. And to avoid being caught through transfer records, they all use cash.” I took her words to heart. When I got home that evening, my mother-in-law, who had been looking after my daughter, had already packed up and returned to her hometown as soon as she heard I was coming back. Only my daughter’s piercing cries remained in the house. I picked up my daughter with a heavy heart and complained to my husband about his mother leaving without saying goodbye. Garrett was very displeased: “My mom is getting on in years. It’s already good enough that she can look after the child for you!” I retorted directly: “If she didn’t want to take care of the child from the beginning, she didn’t have to come. I could have asked my mom to come over! You were the one who actively asked your mother to come. And what do you mean ‘look after the child for me’? Aren’t you the child’s father?” Garrett was stumped and turned away, muttering under his breath. “Huh, only you would know if I’m really the father…” I took a deep breath, feeling like there was a mountain pressing on my chest. I didn’t want to say another word. My month-old daughter was still crying incessantly, her voice hoarse. No matter how I tried to comfort her, it was to no avail. “Damn it, so annoying,” Garrett cursed. Unable to bear her crying, he swore and stormed out to stay at a hotel. At six in the morning, after a sleepless night, I finally welcomed my child’s maternal grandmother. My mom, who often heard old people in the village talk about superstitions, said that this time the baby might have seen something unclean and was frightened out of her wits, which is called infant convulsions. So, my child’s grandmother and I tried calling back her soul and patting her, struggling for two whole days before she got better. We were exhausted to the point of seeing stars. During these two days, Garrett didn’t come home at night. He came back drunk early this morning and fell asleep on the couch. I was already so tired that my vision was blurry. As I bent down to tidy up, I unconsciously moved the weight scale. As a result, it automatically displayed the last measurement data: “Your last measured weight was 99 lbs, on April 12th at 19:31.” I had maintained a weight of 114 lbs for over a year, and I was in the hospital yesterday. It couldn’t have been me. So who measured it? This weight seemed to be that of a woman, and many people instinctively step on a scale when they see one. I frowned, suddenly noticing a strange smell. I carefully crouched down. Sure enough, I smelled a faint scent of sex on the back of the couch. He actually brought a woman home and cheated on the couch in front of our daughter! I was burning with anger, finally understanding why my daughter had been frightened into convulsions. I could only imagine how intense their activity must have been. At this moment, Garrett let out a satisfied snore, smacked his lips, and turned over. The phone he had been lying on fell to the floor.
I quickly checked his phone again. It wasn’t password-protected and showed nothing unusual. However, when I took out the wallet from his jacket pocket, a SIM card ejector pin fell out. Who would carry this around? Could it be that he frequently changes SIM cards? Sure enough, in a hidden compartment, I found another SIM card belonging to Garrett. After inserting it into the phone, all the cloud-backed information records appeared. I was already numb with anger but couldn’t help but mock him — What a frugal good man indeed, too stingy to even buy a spare phone, having to constantly swap SIM cards just to cheat. The message records were overflowing with obscene content. The other party said she was a college student working part-time, a good girl with excellent academic performance, clean and hygienic. Garrett asked: “Baby, send me a photo. Let me see if you’re really a college student.” She sent a photo of herself in black fishnet stockings, partially covering her face like embracing a pipa. She was dressed as a sexy wild cat, with full silicone breasts and an alluring peach-shaped bottom. This is exactly what men like. “Hot enough for you, baby?” she asked. But you could tell from the background that it was a dorm room, and her clothes were cheap. No wonder she accepted the meager offerings from my stingy husband, calling a sleazy man over a decade older than her “baby.” My husband was grinning from ear to ear. “I like you, baby.” After one “transaction,” Garrett sent her a message: “I didn’t bring enough money this time. I’ll definitely make it up next time!” “Okay, baby,” she agreed readily. He could even get credit? Looking closely, I realized that my husband had been lying about being a big boss who often forgets to bring cash, all to get credit. The young girl’s price wasn’t low, and he even spent a few dozen dollars to send her a fake designer bag. So the girl believed him. Indeed, naive young girls are the easiest to fool. They’re no match for older men. When she asked Garrett, “Baby, is your wife very ugly?” Garrett seriously replied, “Don’t talk nonsense. My wife just gave birth and is very busy taking care of the family. She controls the family finances, otherwise I wouldn’t need to ask you for credit.” Laughable. My husband is truly touching. How can he completely separate his cheating body from his supposedly caring heart for his wife? I took a deep breath, looking at the man sleeping soundly on the couch, trying hard to calm my nerves after just recovering from illness. Many married women at this point might choose to turn a blind eye, considering their husband’s contribution to the family. But I won’t. A man who has touched roadside flowers is too dirty. I don’t want him. He can get as far away as possible. But before kicking him out, I must make him pay for hurting me and our daughter! … That night, I didn’t startle the snake in the grass. In my current exhausted state, being hysterical would only backfire. The first thing I did was go to the hospital for HIV and other STD screenings. Only after confirming I was fine did I breathe a sigh of relief. My best friend had used some high-tech methods when catching her ex-husband cheating. She gave me a voice recorder, “Cheating and hiring prostitutes are essentially the same. They both betray your marriage. Only by obtaining evidence to prove he’s at fault can you gain more rights legally.” Although TV dramas are full of scenes of catching cheaters red-handed, it’s not so easy in reality. Stingy men’s thoughts are not as simple as their wallets, but rather more profound. He even knows to check for hidden cameras when traveling, so setting up cameras at home to spy would definitely not work. I gripped the voice recorder in my hand, outwardly calm, dutifully taking care of our daughter. I also became gentler in my attitude towards my husband. Even when he threw his smelly socks at my feet, I still greeted him with a smile. He became a bit uneasy, “Honey, why has your temper changed so much? I’m even a little flattered.” I smiled and said it might be due to postpartum hormonal changes, and that my irritable phase had passed. Garrett finally breathed a sigh of relief. To make a person expose their flaws, you must catch them when they’re most relaxed. One evening in late April, I endured nausea and watched an adult movie with him, even letting him take Viagra. In the end, I refused to have sex with him again, citing physical discomfort. His desire had risen but he was met with a closed door. He immediately became furious. “Zoe, what’s wrong with you! Are you looking for a wild man outside to satisfy you?” My silence provoked him even more. This time I didn’t tolerate his abuse. Instead, I talked back, holding our daughter and declaring I was going back to my mother’s house. “Go back then! Don’t think about using any money from my salary card once you’re gone!” Garrett shouted in his rage. In his fury, he didn’t forget to snatch away the salary card he had just given me a few days ago. I laughed coldly, turned around without looking back, and left with our daughter. The voice recorder I left in the bedroom went unnoticed by him. I knew clearly that the effects of that Viagra pill wouldn’t let him give up so easily. I didn’t leave the community. Instead, after entrusting my daughter to my best friend’s care, I personally staked out in the car downstairs. Sure enough, an hour later, I spotted a beautiful silhouette. The girl looked about twenty, with unremarkable features, but her silicone-filled body was like an inflatable doll, resembling a ripe peach about to burst. However, the pretty girl hesitated for a long time downstairs without going up. Instead, she called Garrett. On the voice recorder’s end, my husband excitedly said: “Come up quickly, I can’t wait another second. I’m about to explode. I took Viagra today and even put on a pain relief patch. My herniated disc doesn’t hurt anymore!” But this time, the girl paused for a moment. “Mr. Parker, I came this time to ask for the payment from our previous encounters.” “If you’re not willing to settle the full amount at once, I won’t come up,” she said. Garrett was silent for a long time on the other end. The girl explained that every time he said “definitely next time,” he also promised to add interest. So this time, she was asking for the principal plus interest. There was no cash at home, and if Garrett chose to transfer online, it would inevitably leave a trail. I was very curious how my extremely stingy husband would handle this fee of several thousand dollars. But I never expected that on the recorder’s end, a man’s crying sound would suddenly be heard.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294723”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller
Leave a Reply