Heading to pick up a client, I tapped on my GPS. A sickeningly sweet, overly-familiar female voice cooed from the speaker. “Teeheeheehee, your little helper, Brianna, is excited to start this journey for two with you, almost like eloping, teehee!” I slammed on the brakes, hitting the steering wheel, as the voice continued its syrupy monologue. “There’s a cute little snack shop up ahead that Brianna just *adores*! Please, pretty please, get me some cookies?” I froze, listening to the GPS voice. I immediately called Julian, my husband. “Did you use the Porsche recently?” On the other end, Julian’s voice was calm and gentle. “My car broke down a few days ago, so I used it briefly. Why, what’s up?” I smiled, said it was nothing, and hung up. Then, I turned the car towards Julian’s company. I rarely went to Julian’s office, knowing that trust was paramount in a marriage. I didn’t want to suspect Julian, but that voice kept replaying in my mind. I sat in Julian’s office, asking HR to bring me all the new female employee files. Just then, Julian pushed open the door. “Audrey.” Julian sat opposite me, a playful smile on his face. “Playing detective, huh?” “Find anything?” “If you didn’t, you’ll have to make it up to me,” Julian leaned back, tapping the table with a teasing grin. “I want you to go skydiving with me.” I looked at Julian’s open, honest smile, and couldn’t help but wonder if I was being too narrow-minded. All the files HR provided turned up nothing. Not a single new employee named Brianna. Was I overthinking it, being too sensitive? I put the files down, meeting Julian’s mischievously teasing grin, and sighed. “Just a routine check.” I pushed the files towards him. “If you don’t like it, I won’t do it again.” Julian immediately put on a placating smile. “My wife cares about me, I’m thrilled! Why would I ever dislike it?” Julian had always been gentle. Even if he was decisive and commanding in the boardroom, he still doted on me like I was his most precious treasure. Even when I was in the wrong, he’d be the first to apologize, wanting me to always feel cherished. I shouldn’t doubt Julian. I followed Julian home, watching him carry groceries into the kitchen. I turned to head to my study to deal with some documents when I saw Julian’s phone vibrate. I was about to call out to him when my peripheral vision caught the caller ID. My breath hitched. I picked up the phone and answered. That familiar, sickeningly sweet voice echoed. The person on the other end practically purred his name. “Julesy, Julesy, Brianna’s entire second-half业绩 is counting on your big deal! My boss praised me today, I really need to thank you properly.” My heart clenched. I heard her chuckle. “I heard a little bird told me your Mrs. was on the prowl earlier, Julesy, Julesy, report in! What’s the situation on your end?” The woman, saved as [Yuanhe Vineyard’s Brianna], was calling my husband “Julesy.” Even the old-timers who’d been with the company since its inception called him Mr. Julian. No one, not even close acquaintances, spoke to Julian like that. And now. The woman hesitated. “Julesy, Julesy.” “Why aren’t you answering me?” “Bad signal?” The call was abruptly disconnected. My face was ashen as I stared at Julian, still busy in the kitchen. It suddenly hit me – Julian had indeed developed a sudden interest in wine tasting, and a Yuanhe Vineyard project had unexpectedly appeared on the company’s deal roster, one that really shouldn’t have been there. I had even asked Julian at the time why he was suddenly changing strategy. Julian had simply said, “No matter the industry, if there’s a piece of the pie to be had, I want a bite,” Julian had looked at me with tender eyes. “I want to make my wife the happiest woman alive, to give her the best life.” My heart had been filled with sweetness. Now, it felt like a heavy hand had just slapped me across the face, shattering my fantasies and all my hopes for our marriage. Julian. How far had he gone with her?
I sat in my study, Brianna’s voice replaying relentlessly in my mind. I thought of the times I’d accompanied Julian to the vineyard, yet I’d never seen anyone named Brianna there. I found Chloe’s SnapChat and typed out a message. **[Help me dig into Yuanhe Vineyard and Julian.]** I fought down the terror rising in my chest, my typing fingers trembling. **[I need every single transaction and recent itinerary for Julian. Everything,]** Tears welled in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to let them fall, clinging to a shred of rationality. **[Julian might be cheating.]** I had just hit send. Julian’s voice came from behind me. “Audrey.” He walked over, his face etched with an apology. “A company project suddenly hit a snag,” he said, his voice troubled as he looked at me. “I promised to spend time with you, but I really can’t sort this out from here. I have to go.” He gently stroked my head. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done,” he said, holding his phone. The screen was lit, and I saw a SnapChat chat box still open. I gripped his hand tightly, asking him, “Can’t you just not go?” Normally, Julian would sense the change in my tone, would see the vulnerability hidden in my eyes, and my phone screen that I hadn’t had time to turn off. But Julian didn’t. He was focused on leaving and his SnapChat, merely explaining with forced patience. “I’ll be back soon, don’t make a fuss.” His voice was tinged with urgency. “Audrey, you’re always so understanding, don’t make this harder for me.” I felt like a balloon suddenly deflated, sitting numbly as Julian rushed out without even a proper goodbye. My tears finally fell, silently. It was then I truly understood: there really are no faithful cats when there’s cream to be had. Chloe called me. “Julian actively financed and launched a project at Yuanhe. This whole thing smells fishy.” Chloe sent me documents. “The whole of Yuanhe is saying Julian poured a fortune into promoting someone. No one at Yuanhe dares to joke around with that girl.” Chloe’s voice turned cold. “I heard Yuanhe is having a celebration party at The Grand Astoria Hotel.” “Julian didn’t go, right?” That last flicker of hope in my heart completely shattered. I looked at the dinner Julian had prepared on the table: the peeled shrimp, my favorite sweet soup, and the roses placed nearby. It suddenly hit me—Julian had said, “Audrey! Did you forget? Today is actually our wedding anniversary.” Our wedding anniversary. Julian still chose someone else, still left me here alone. Even though I’d said I didn’t want him to go, I didn’t want him to leave, I wanted him to stay—he still walked towards the person he was more concerned about. “I’m going to The Grand Astoria.” I told Chloe. “Even if my marriage is ending, I need to know what kind of person I lost to.” I had imagined who I might lose to: a sophisticated, elegant woman, or perhaps someone vibrant, bubbly, and younger. But I had never, ever imagined this. When I saw her, sitting next to Julian, calling him “Julesy” in that sweet, syrupy voice—she was so utterly unremarkable, I wouldn’t remember her face if I saw her on the street. She had no real style, wore ordinary clothes, her hair was casually tied back, and her face was bare as she hugged Julian’s arm, laughing. “Julesy.” “They’re trying to get me drunk.” Spoiled rotten by his favoritism, the girl pointed at the businessmen at the table. “I told them my Julesy is a knight and would protect me, but they didn’t believe it. They said you have to talk to them yourself.” In the private room. Those men laughed, flattering him. “That’s why Brianna has such unique taste! She either goes for nothing or snags a golden goose like this!”
“Mr. Julian spares no expense for Brianna; everyone’s buzzing about how he values love over profit, hahaha.” “Exactly!” a paunchy businessman picked up his glass. “Brianna, why don’t you join us in toasting Mr. Julian?” My steps faltered, my hand freezing on the doorknob. Julian was allergic to alcohol; he never drank. Even at business dinners, I was always the one on the front lines, shielding him. I watched the wine glass on Julian’s table as Brianna pouted, “No way I’m drinking. My Julesy would never let me.” “Right, Julesy?” Brianna clung to Julian’s arm, pouting. And Julian, incredibly, picked up the glass, his eyes cool as he looked at the man. “Brianna isn’t drinking.” “If you want a toast, Mr. Thompson, why don’t you and I drink?” I watched Julian down the glass of wine. The room erupted in cheers, Brianna blushing as she praised Julian for being a hero. Julian just gave her a doting smile and playfully pinched her cheek. My body felt as if it were being carved open by a rusty, blunt knife, leaving jagged, terrifying wounds. I saw the crimson blood gush from those wounds, saw myself riddled with holes, yet still wondering if there might be some misunderstanding. Chloe, seeing me sway, grabbed my arm, about to rush in and rip Julian a new one. “Julian’s a total beast!” I held Chloe back, pulled out my phone, and called Julian. I still clung to a desperate hope that Julian would give me an explanation himself, that he’d tell me there was another side to the story. I watched Julian pick up the phone from the table, his expression complex as he looked at Brianna. Brianna, without a second thought, pressed ‘decline.’ Brianna then hugged his arm again, reminding him, “You promised.” “You said,” Brianna bit her lip, looking at him, “you’d have my back.” Brianna stared at Julian, stubbornly. I stubbornly redialed Julian’s number, again and again. The screen on the table lit up and went dark, went dark and lit up, until finally, Julian made his decision. “Okay.” “I promised you.” Julian flipped his phone over, completely cutting off my calls. Brianna broke into a wide smile. And that smile was the final straw that broke me. I almost collapsed, but from my grief, I managed to squeeze out a sliver of rationality. I pointed to the ceiling. “The surveillance.” “The surveillance,” my voice trembling. “Save it. I need evidence.” I stared at the surveillance cameras, then at Julian’s gradually paling face, and told Chloe, “Since Julian made his choice, I won’t let him have an easy time of it.” I got into Chloe’s car. As Chloe scrolled through all the documents she’d pulled up. Julian, taking Brianna on scenic trips. Brianna’s TikTok was like a vast web, weaving together her love story with Julian, a story that never once included me. I saw a video from last month, when I was away on a business trip. Brianna was sitting in *my* Porsche, recording. In the video. Her smile was dazzling. “What should I do, fam? Hubby’s car broke down, so he bought a new one, a bit feminine. I’m secretly preparing a surprise for him.” She recorded the GPS voice, then shushed the camera. “Guess what?” “Will Hubby like this surprise? Will he buy me little cookies?” I suppressed my disgust, scrolling down further. I saw that on the day I was at the hospital for my IVF appointment, Brianna was at the same OB/GYN clinic, holding a lab report, her face flushed with coy shyness. “Mainstream Hubby hasn’t gotten her period in a month and a half!” “Fans, guess, is Mainstream Hubby just having irregular periods, or—” she giggled. “Is she getting a promotion to Mommy?” “That despicable hussy!” Chloe slammed her hand on the steering wheel in anger. But I, surprisingly, no longer felt the initial rage and pain of betrayal. I simply told her. “Julian has a low sperm count.”
Julian and I had been married for years, and having a child was a sore spot for both of us. We had seen doctors, but every single one told us the same thing: Julian had a low sperm count. Becoming parents would be a long and challenging journey. That’s why, for years, I’d been going through IVF, trying to fulfill Julian’s dream of becoming a father. Now, I watched Brianna’s post: “Mainstream Hubby said if I get pregnant, he’s buying me a villa as a reward! Fam, what do you think? Should I go for cash or real estate?” Brianna’s TikTok was filled with their daily displays of affection, clearly documenting the staggering amount of money Julian had spent on her – an astronomical sum, beyond anything I could have imagined. Even the Yuanhe Vineyard project had been Julian’s unilateral decision, against the unanimous disagreement of the other shareholders. When I had gathered all this, preparing to confront Julian, I received a call from the hospital. It turned out Julian had alcohol poisoning. Marcus, a senior from my university whom I’d known, had seen him and instinctively thought of me, asking with an awkward tone, “Are you and Julian on the outs?” Marcus tactfully told me. “A girl was here, crying and begging us to save Julian. I just assumed…” I smiled and asked Marcus if he could do me a favor. Soon after, I saw Brianna’s TikTok update. Julian, pale and hooked up to an IV, and Brianna, her eyes red from crying. “Mainstream Hubby drank so much for me! He knew he was allergic to alcohol but he still did it! Mainstream Hubby loves him so much!” In the video. Julian’s hand was clearly visible, but only one. If not for those hands that held me to sleep every night, if not for our bond since childhood, if not for all that, how could I have ever believed Julian would deceive me? I reacted to Brianna’s post with a thumbs up and commented. **[What a coincidence.]** **[Mainstream Hubby’s wedding ring looks exactly like mine.]** I posted a picture: **[My husband personally designed and ordered my wedding ring. I never thought my husband and Mainstream Hubby’s husband would have such similar taste.]** The comments quickly erupted. My comment was rapidly pushed to the top. Julian’s phone rang instantly. His voice was weak, but he explained to me, “Audrey, I’m working late at the office. I might not make it back. Don’t wait up for me, just go to sleep and don’t worry.” Julian was still covering it up, still using the guise of caring for me, hoping I’d continue living in his deception. I listened to his voice, watching the comment section explode. Many people, following my TikTok and Brianna’s timeline, had uncovered too many parallels, including the Porsche I had deliberately photographed. The comment section was buzzing with discussions about whether it was two women sharing one husband, or if one of them had to be the mistress. I feigned shock. **[No way.]** **[My husband and I have been married for seven or eight years. How could I be the mistress?]** I pretended innocence, then responded into the phone: “Honey, someone’s calling me a mistress. What should I do?” On the phone. Julian was silent for a long time. He looked at Brianna, who was fiercely battling the comments in the hospital room, then soothed me. “Who said that about you?” “Hubby will find them first thing, as soon as he’s done.” “No need, Honey,” my voice was tinged with a smile. Julian’s face was blank as I pushed open the hospital room door. “Since someone’s calling me a mistress, I should clarify, shouldn’t I, Honey?” I held up my live-streaming camera, pointing it at Julian and Brianna in the hospital room. “This is my husband, everyone!” I feigned surprise, looking at Brianna. “What are you doing here!” I played the innocent victim, tears welling up immediately. “You’re that blogger who argued with me!” As if finally recognizing her, I pulled out the picture Brianna had taken of Julian’s hand, comparing it to the very much alive Julian in the hospital bed.
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