A Hundred Bracelets

Every time my husband cheated, he gave me a bracelet.

I collected 99 bracelets in four years of marriage—I forgave him 99 times.

He was away on a business trip for three days lately.

When he came back, he brought home a rare bracelet worth Ten Million Dollars.

That was when I knew it was time to ask for a divorce.

James Muller walked through the door just as I was tossing the post-abortion care sheet into the trash.

Three days ago, while he was supposedly on a business trip, he was actually at a birthday party—for another woman.

He gifted the woman a million-dollar house.

I got so upset that I had a miscarriage.

Back from the hospital, I stared at the jewelry box full of bracelets—99 of them.

Then I ordered fried chicken and a cold soda, ignoring everything the doctor told me.

James walked over, snatched the food, and threw it away. "You know you had a bad stomach. Why are you still eating this stuff?"

He pulled a small box from his bag and handed it to me. "Got you something. It took a lot of effort."

Inside was a bracelet. Rare. Expensive. Probably worth over 10 million dollars.

He was not lying. This kind of piece was difficult to get. He must have pulled every string he had.

If he had given it to me before we got married, I would have jumped into his arms.

At this point, though, I could not even pretend to care. I did not want to try it on.

He crouched down in front of me, trying to catch my eye. "Are you mad? Because I didn't go with you to see your mom? I'll take you now if you want."

I looked away and said quietly, "It's fine. Her memorial was three days ago."

Before we got married, we made a deal.

We could skip every celebration—but he had to be there at my mom's memorial.

He kept that promise for the first three years.

This year, after work, I called him. He sweetly said he had left town that morning for a business trip.

I checked the flights—only one left that day, and it was too late. He would not make it.

So I went alone.

I stood in front of my mom's grave and learned James had not been on a trip. He had spent the day with a young woman and gifted her a house.

That was when I lost the baby.

"That was your mom's memorial? Sorry, babe. I totally forgot."

He looked surprised. It did not seem fake.

He knelt down, took my hand, and tried to smooth things over. "Let me make it up to you. I'll buy you another bracelet—something better. This one cost twenty mil. I'll get you one for thirty."

Every time James screwed up, he would do the same old routine—apologize, act like the perfect boyfriend, then throw money at it.

In six years, I had never seen him raise his voice.

To everyone else, he was the dream husband.

I, however, knew how hollow this marriage really was.

I was about to say I wanted a divorce—then my stomach growled.

He smiled and patted my head like I was a kid. "I'll make you some porridge. You think about what you want—another bracelet or maybe a house."

He walked into the kitchen.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table.

I picked it up.

A message popped up from Yvonne.

[James, thank you for the big house! I had the best three days.]

My heart dropped. I opened her profile.

Her banner photo showed her and James on a mountain.

She smiled into the camera, throwing up a peace sign. He faced away, showing just enough of his cool-guy silhouette.

My hands started shaking. I scrolled through her feed.

Every post in the past three days was about their trip.

[He's here—I don't have to open bottles anymore!]

[OMG, my crush has the cutest smile!]

[POV: A celebrity dating her CEO boyfriend!]

James had liked almost all of them.

The newest post was a picture of the bracelet he gave me.

[Ew. Ugly bracelet. Would not wear it even if it were free.]

That was the only one he did not like.

The phone buzzed again.

[James, I drank too much after you left. Can you come over tonight?]

I frowned.

From the kitchen, he called out, "Babe, porridge's almost ready!"

I installed the bugging app I had prepared on his phone, and cleaned the trace. Then I set the phone back down.

James walked out with a bowl of shrimp porridge, glanced at his phone, and smiled—barely.

Then he put on his serious face. "Something came up at work. I need to head back to the office."

I stirred my porridge slowly. "If it's going to be a late night, just sleep at the office."

"Okay."

He looked relieved. Before leaving, he even ran a bath for me.