My husband, Daniel, seems to be in love. He’s always grinning foolishly at his phone, showering more often, changing outfits multiple times before going out, and he even changed our profile pictures to matching couple’s avatars without asking. Whenever I used to see these kinds of social media posts, I always thought they were just relatable jokes. That is, until the eve of our fifth wedding anniversary. My usually serious and stiff husband sent me a message: “Company dinner tonight, darling. Will my Queen grace us with her presence?” Daniel sounded so sweet. He even used a cute emoji I’d never seen him use before. My heart instantly clenched, a cold chill spreading through me. I’d seen that animated character on the emoji before. It was the profile picture of the new intern at his company. It wasn’t just “seems like.” In the tenth year of our love, my husband was in love—with someone else. “Where did you get such a cute emoji?” The “typing…” bubble stayed on for a long time before Daniel replied: “Saved it from a group chat.” Before I could ask more questions, Daniel’s profile picture flickered, changing to a Q-version of the same animated character. It was a matching couple’s avatar. “Honey, isn’t my new profile picture cute?” “It’s the style you asked me to change to before! You should use this one.” He sent me a photo, a really cute animated character. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen it. Instinctively, I opened the company’s main SnapChat group chat to check. Sure enough, there was an identical profile picture. Chloe Hayes. I remembered her. The new intern at the company, a sweet-smiling young girl. My heart dropped. It felt like my heart skipped a beat, and a cold dread spread from my limbs, chilling me to the bone. Tears welled up instantly, overflowing and blurring my vision as I looked at the yellowing wedding photo on the wall. I decided to confirm it myself. With trembling hands, I replied: “Yes, I’ll be there for the dinner tonight.” That evening, when Daniel drove up to pick me, Chloe, just an intern, was sitting in the passenger seat. The back seats were occupied by some of the closer management staff. Chloe, quite thoughtfully, got out to offer me the passenger seat. Daniel leaned over and explained, “Chloe gets carsick, and ride-shares often have weird smells. So I just had her ride with me.” “My Queen, please get in.” I managed a strained smile, greeted everyone, and got into the passenger seat. Low murmurs of chatter came from the back. Chloe remained quiet, watching Daniel as he drove through the rearview mirror. I decided to test him. While we were waiting at a red light, I deliberately reached out and took Daniel’s hand, which was resting on the gear stick. From the back, flirty cheers immediately erupted: “Whoa, the boss and his wife are so sweet together!” But Daniel pulled his hand back as if he’d been shocked. He gave me a forced, awkward smile, trying to cover it up as he explained, “Honey, I’m driving. Safety first.” I subtly turned my face away, responding flatly, “I was just wondering why you suddenly stopped wearing your wedding ring.” Daniel gave a couple of dry laughs: “I’ve gained a little happy weight recently; you must be cooking too well, my love.” “This ring is just a bit tight.” “It’s our fifth anniversary soon anyway. We can go pick out a new set of matching rings.” I said nothing, just nodded. I played along, pretending we were a loving, happy couple. Through the rearview mirror, I saw Chloe’s red-rimmed eyes in the back. Her fingers were clenched so hard they were bloodless; she must have been in a lot of pain, holding it in. I glanced sideways and saw Daniel secretly watching her, his gaze filled with warmth, guilt, and deep reassurance. They stared deeply into each other’s eyes through the mirror. It wasn’t until the honking of the cars behind us reminded him that the light had changed that Daniel snapped out of it and started driving again. I witnessed it all, my heart feeling crushed under a heavy rock, a suffocating pain. Unable to bear it, I rolled down the window for some air. After a long moment of thought, I finally opened my lawyer friend’s contact on my phone and typed out a message: “Taking cases?” “I’m divorcing Daniel Miller.”
It was a celebration dinner, and the atmosphere was relaxed. Daniel stood on stage, glass in hand, looking vibrant and confident as he announced the mid-year bonuses. At the table, Chloe rested her chin in her hand, her eyes shining as she watched him. Her gaze was full of girlish adoration. Daniel chatted casually with the employees below, but his gaze always landed on her. After a few rounds of drinks, Chloe, who couldn’t hold her liquor, quietly left the table. Daniel noticed. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling my ear, and said: “Reporting in!” “Honey, I need to use the restroom.” I agreed. I nodded, but stealthily followed him, watching him turn into the fire escape stairwell, which was in the opposite direction from the restrooms. Chloe’s suppressed sobs drifted into the air, soft and pitiful. Daniel sat beside her, his voice tender, asking, “Why are you crying?” Chloe looked up, her eyes red, fixing on him: “From our college days to your wedding day, you and Amelia are so deeply in love. I envy her so much.” “My internship ends soon, and I’ll have to take on projects independently. I won’t be able to just follow you around anymore. I’ll make sure to keep my feelings in check from now on, but I really can’t bear to leave you.” “Please, just one last thing. Can you… kiss me?” The air seemed to freeze in that instant. Daniel moved. But he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he gave Chloe a gentle hug. His voice turned hoarse, choked with emotion: “I’m sorry, we met too late. I’m already married, I…” Daniel didn’t finish his sentence. Chloe cupped his face and pressed a deep kiss onto his forehead. Daniel froze. But he didn’t push her away; instead, he closed his eyes. I heard the sound of my own heart breaking. It echoed in the silent fire escape, making no sound at all. They left, one after the other. I looked at my phone screen, where the recording button was still lit, and finally pressed stop. When I returned, Daniel and Chloe were already seated. The celebration dinner was pretty much winding down. Employees were gathering in small groups, figuring out who lived near whom and how they’d get home. Daniel, whom I was helping to support, suddenly stopped, as if remembering something, and turned around. He held up his phone to everyone: “It’s getting late. The guys need to make sure all the ladies get home safely.” “Once you’re home, remember to check in on the group chat!” Everyone chorused, “Okay!” Daniel, swaying as if very drunk, patted Chloe’s shoulder. “Chloe, I remember you get carsick. Why don’t you ride with us?” Chloe hesitated, looking at me. She seemed to be waiting for me to say something. “Come with us,” I said. “You’ve had quite a bit to drink too. I’ll drop you off first.” The ride was silent. Daniel, usually chatty when he drank, was unusually quiet, pretending to nap with his eyes closed in the passenger seat. Chloe sat quietly in the back. He knew that if he talked to me, Chloe would be upset. Only when Chloe got out of the car did Daniel snap awake. He rolled down the window, waved goodbye to her, and watched her go inside. Even after I started the car, he kept looking in the rearview mirror until Chloe’s figure disappeared. Then he finally looked at me and said: “Honey, this Sunday is our tenth wedding anniversary.” “Let’s go buy new rings then, okay?” I chuckled softly, not responding directly. I just gently pushed his head, making him sit up straight. When we got home, Daniel’s alcohol had fully hit, and he was disoriented. I put him in the guest bedroom. Having seen his infidelity, I just felt dirty thinking about sharing a bed with him again. As I was about to close the door and leave, his phone, which was on the bedside table, lit up. A familiar profile picture popped up, sending a message: “Daniel, are you asleep?”
I walked out with Daniel’s phone. He had no defenses against me. I easily unlocked his phone, but I didn’t reply to Chloe’s message. I just scrolled up, As if tracing back their story. The serious, rigid boss meets the innocent, lively intern, causing trouble yet finding himself intrigued and a little smitten by her antics. They both knew what was happening, but preferred to enjoy the unspoken flirtation, letting themselves fall deeper. I tried to steady my breathing. I pressed the record button again, capturing the evidence of my husband’s infidelity. I opened his photo gallery. It was almost entirely filled with pictures of Chloe. But no pictures of them together. They were all secretly taken by Daniel. Chloe working, Chloe talking to colleagues, Chloe napping, Chloe slacking off. From initially not looking at the camera at all, to later shyly acknowledging it, the last few pictures showed Chloe laughing freely, facing the lens. Just as I finished recording, Another message popped up on SnapChat. “Daniel, it’s been ten years. Don’t do anything to hurt Amelia. Her face tonight was clearly off.” The sender was Ben. One of the company’s OGs. When the company first started, there were only three of us. Me, Ben, and Daniel. Later, as the company grew and staff increased, I gradually returned to focusing on our family. It was only when doing financial reports that I remembered I still held a nominal title as CFO. Daniel and Ben were super close. From the moment Daniel first realized his unusual feelings, they’d talked about it. Bits and pieces, detailing Daniel’s slow slide into infidelity. “It’s been ten years, I haven’t felt love for Amelia for ages. Every time I hold her hand, it’s like I’m holding my own hand. When I touch her body, it feels like touching my own. This isn’t love anymore.” “Yes, I know Amelia gave up her career to take care of my mom back then. But now we have nothing in common. The moment she starts talking about groceries and bills, I get annoyed.” “Ben, I hadn’t felt that rush, that flutter in my chest, in ages. Meeting her, I feel like I’m in love.” “She’s so kind, so fragile. I genuinely want to take care of her for the rest of my life, but I’m already married. I know I shouldn’t betray Amelia, but I can’t control my feelings.” … In the end, there was only one ridiculous question left: “Does emotional cheating count as cheating?” Ben didn’t reply. It was Daniel’s own self-doubt. “Forget it. It’s been ten years. No more drama.” That night, Daniel snored loudly enough to shake the house in the guest bedroom, probably living out his wish to be with Chloe in his dreams. In the master bedroom, I cried all night, watching every detail of his betrayal unfold. It wasn’t until dawn that I finally exhaled a sigh: “Disgusting.” Ten years of love, and all that was left for me in the end was a churning, overwhelming sense of disgust. My phone vibrated. It was my lawyer. “Amelia, the agreement is drafted. When do you plan to confront Daniel?” From outside, Daniel’s voice rang out: “Honey, I’m up. You should get ready too.” “Let’s go buy new rings today, tomorrow’s our fifth wedding anniversary. We should really celebrate!” I hummed in response. I looked down and replied to my lawyer: “I want to get away for a bit. For our anniversary tomorrow, please meet Daniel in my place.” “Confront him, talk about the divorce.”
Soon after I left, a heavy rain started. The summer thunderstorm was so intense it caused power outages, even cutting off electricity at the mall. They managed to stay open using their own generators. The mall was very close to the apartment complex Chloe rented. Daniel seemed very anxious. He said he was going to the restroom, but he kept making call after call. I waited for him by the restroom door. He came out sweating profusely and told me: “The company seems to have lost power due to the storm, and there’s an issue with the servers. I need to get back there immediately.” He handed me his bank card, reassuring me: “Honey, buy whatever you like. Anything is fine with me.” Daniel left in a hurry, not even giving me a chance to ask questions. I looked down at my phone screen. I had just sent a message to Ben: “Are you on duty today? There’s a power issue in the South Side area. How’s the company?” He replied: “We have generators. Everything’s fine, no problems at all. Don’t worry, Amelia.” I didn’t buy any rings. My heart was terrifyingly calm, as if I had long been prepared to sever the last thread of attachment to those ten years of our relationship. After a long time trying to hail a cab, I ended up walking home in the rain. I pulled out cardboard boxes and started packing my things. It wasn’t until dusk that Daniel finally called me: “Amelia, the company situation here is a bit tricky. I won’t be coming home tonight; I’ll stay here to handle it.” “Tomorrow! Tomorrow, I promise I’ll spend our anniversary properly with you.” Before I could say anything, Daniel hung up, as if there was something he was in an urgent rush to do. It seemed even the algorithms disapproved of Daniel’s clumsy lies. When I opened Ins, I accidentally stumbled upon Chloe’s account. I recognized the hand in the photo instantly as Daniel’s. There was a scar on his middle finger knuckle, and a faint white mark on his ring finger where his wedding ring used to be. But with just a hand, there might still be room for self-deception. However, another photo, a profile shot of Daniel shirtless, left me with no way to lie to myself. Chloe’s caption was incredibly sweet: **[He appeared when I needed him most.]** I dialed Daniel’s number. It rang for a long time before he picked up, his tone impatient: “Amelia, what is it? I’m really busy right now.” I glanced at the lightning and thunder outside and lied: “I’m at the mall, and I can’t get a cab.” “Can you come pick me up? I’ll get sick if I stay in the rain in this weather.” There was a moment of silence on his end. He still refused, even with a hint of blame: “I really have something going on at the company. Just go home, take a shower, and you’ll be fine.” “Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.” “I have to go, I’m hanging up.” Beep, beep, beep. I opened my mouth, but only a dial tone met me. An hour later, Chloe updated her Ins again: **[I have him, he has me.]** The picture was a selfie of her and Daniel. They were in a bed, and Daniel’s eyes were closed, asleep. I glanced at it, and the heartbreak I felt was now just a dull, aching numbness. I quietly screen-recorded it as evidence of Daniel’s infidelity, not a single tear falling. I paid extra to arrange a moving company to ship my belongings. The house was empty now. Of our things, only the large, yellowing wedding photo remained on the wall. It was an eyesore and a painful reminder. I didn’t take it. With a simple carry-on bag, I arrived at the train station. I hadn’t decided where to go, so I just glanced at the ticket display. Whichever train was boarding earliest, I’d take that one, aimlessly. “Ma’am, the final destination for this train is Brighton. How many tickets?” “One.” The next morning, I woke up in a B&B in Brighton. As I was feeding seagulls by the lake, Daniel sent me a message: **[Good morning, Honey. Happy fifth wedding anniversary!]** I didn’t reply. Midday arrived. Daniel seemed to realize something was wrong and sent a few more messages: **[Honey, are you mad because I didn’t pick you up yesterday?]** **[The company really did have an emergency. You’re not the type to hold a grudge over something like this. Come on, I’ve booked the best table at the lakeside restaurant. Twelve o’clock sharp, to celebrate our anniversary!]** **[Honey, don’t be mad. I love my wife the most!]** I still didn’t reply. It was already past one o’clock. Daniel had clearly run out of patience: **[?]** **[Are you seriously mad? There’s no need for this. All these years of our relationship, just because I didn’t pick you up? ]** **[Where are you? I’ll come find you. Why is your temper getting worse and worse lately?]** Just as Daniel called me, Mr. Davis, my lawyer, arrived. He walked straight up to Daniel: “Mr. Miller, I presume?” “I’m Mr. Davis, a lawyer. Ms. Amelia Wei has retained me to discuss divorce proceedings with you.” Daniel frowned, looking utterly bewildered: “Divorce? What nonsense are you talking about?” “Where is she? She’s not replying to messages, not answering calls.” After a few rings, I answered the phone. Daniel immediately put it on speaker, his tone hostile as he interrogated me: “Amelia Wei, what exactly do you mean by this?!” “Just because I didn’t pick you up yesterday, you want a divorce? How many times have I told you, the company servers had issues! It wasn’t that I didn’t want to pick you up, I simply couldn’t leave. ” “Today is our wedding anniversary. Do you really have to blow things out of proportion like this and make such a scene?” His tone was aggressive. But perhaps it was because I had completely given up hope, I felt extraordinarily calm in comparison. I no longer tried to play along. Instead, I completely ripped off the band-aid, speaking without mercy: “Daniel Miller, were the company servers set up on Chloe Hayes’s bed?” “Was cheating on your wife stimulating?”
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