On my 30th birthday, my husband said he had a surprise for me.
But while shopping at the mall, I saw him standing at the Louis Vuitton counter with another woman.
They were laughing and chatting, acting far too intimate.
Watching them hug and touch each other, I felt my world collapse.
I had never imagined that my husband would cheat on me.
When he saw me, he froze for a moment.
I thought he would come over to explain, but instead, he pretended not to see me.
After a long while, he reluctantly walked over.
“Claire, don’t overthink this. She’s just my sister. I asked her to help me pick out a gift.”
A sister? Would a sister look at him with love in her eyes? Would a sister hug him that way?
I ignored him and turned to leave.
Before my birthday, David Miller had promised me a big surprise.
Well, this surprise was indeed big—so big it turned into a shock.
If I hadn’t gone out shopping today, I might never have discovered that he had another woman.
After all, David was very good at pretending.
I wasn’t as fragile as I had imagined. In fact, I was surprisingly calm.
As for his explanation, I wasn’t going to believe a single word.
So I turned around and left without looking back.
Seeing my firm attitude, David finally showed a trace of panic.
“Claire, don’t go. Please listen to my explanation.”
I stopped and looked at him.
Out of nowhere, Anna Parker stormed over and shouted, “You shameless woman, seducing my man in public!”
Her yelling immediately drew the attention of the crowd.
I was stunned, but she arrogantly continued, “David and I have been together since college. And you? You’re just a mistress—no looks, no body, nothing!”
People despise mistresses. They’re like rats crossing the street—everyone wants to beat them down.
The onlookers, not knowing the truth, began pointing fingers at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“When it comes to looks, I’m taller, fuller, and far more elegant than you.”
“As for appearance, you’re just a country bumpkin. Do you really think you can compare to me?”
That word—“bumpkin”—drove Anna mad.
She gritted her teeth and snapped, “You barren woman who can’t even have kids—where do you get the courage to act arrogant in front of me?”
The mention of children made my chest ache.
Seven years of marriage, and David and I still had no children.
It wasn’t because we didn’t want them. A hospital checkup had revealed that I had fertility issues.
I tried everything—medicine, treatments—but still, no pregnancy.
Seeing my silence, Anna seized the chance to strike harder.
In front of everyone, she mocked, “Claire Thompson, what can I even say about you?”
“You spend my man’s money, sleep with him, and still have the nerve to humiliate me?”
“Tell me, everyone—shouldn’t such a shameless woman just die?”
Immediately, people chimed in:
“She’s right! Women like her deserve it!”
“Immoral, shameless—you should be locked up!”
“If her parents knew their daughter was a mistress, they’d die of shame.”
Listening to their curses, I almost laughed at the absurdity.
Who was the real victim here?
I was the wife, yet the mistress accused me to my face.
And she incited the crowd to curse me as well.
I looked at David, wanting to know what he thought.
But he just stood there, silent, not even offering a word in my defense.
