Evelyn's POV:
The phone screen suddenly lit up in the darkness, its harsh glow falling over the cold, untouched dinner on the table.
A message popped up.
“Evelyn, guess who I'm with right now?”
It was a message from an unfamiliar number.
I frowned.
My finger was on the delete button when another message popped up.
“Take a look. See how your dear husband’s emergency business trip really looks.”
Attached was a long video.
The words “emergency business trip" made me hesitate.
My breathing caught as I tapped to open it, my heart pounding involuntarily faster when I touched the screen.
Pressed play.
A woman's sweet moans, intertwined with a man's heavy breaths, immediately poured out. The intimate sounds rang out clearly, sending a chill straight down my spine.
Because I recognized that voice.
Perfectly.
“James, that feels so good.”
“Faster, darling. I love you so much.”
In the video, the two people were entangled in the most intimate of acts, passion unmistakable.
The woman's arms were wrapped tightly around the man's neck.
The screen trembled slightly, and I caught sight of the man’s back.
Broad shoulders.
A solid, bare back.
It was my husband.
James Caldwell.
The man who had left me alone on our fifth wedding anniversary, claimed he had an urgent business trip.
The man who, just hours ago, had told me I was the one he loved most in the world.
The man who spoke softly about celebrating our tenth, our twentieth anniversaries together.
My stomach twisted with nausea. My face drained of all color as my fingers tightened around the phone.
My heart clenched in agony, so painful that I couldn't even make a sound.
And the woman in the video,
I knew her.
Lena Whitmore, James's ex-girlfriend.
The woman who had abandoned James six years ago to pursue her career as an artist in Australia.
The woman who had once boldly declared that she no longer needed James's love and had discarded him like trash.
In the end, the one who was left behind and the one who abandoned him reunited, tangled in bed as if nothing had ever happened.
And the wife who had stayed by James's side through his darkest years, the woman who had shared his bed for five years, was nothing.
The video kept playing.
Amid the moans, Lena's voice is a bit lazy.
“Oh, darling, aren't you afraid your wife will be sad if you keep doing this with me?”
“I remember today is your wedding anniversary, isn't it?”
Lena’s hand intimately tracing the muscles on James’s chest.
My hand clenched unconsciously until my knuckles turned white. Deep down, there was still a trace of hope.
As long as James hesitated.
As long as James still thinks of me, even a little, perhaps I could still give him another chance.
I could treat it as him having momentarily lost his way.
But James's next action,
turned that fleeting thought into a cruel joke.
“Don’t mention that boring woman right now”, James lowered his head to kiss Lena before replying impatiently, irritation clearly in his tone.
“Ever since she got pregnant, she’s been like a block of wood.”
“We haven't touched each other in ages.”
My heart seemed to stop beating, because that last shred of hope had been extinguished.
Completely.
“I already told her I had a business trip”, James continued casually.
His hand gently strokes along Lena's collarbone.
“She won’t ask too many questions.”
“I’ll just buy her some random gift when I get back…”
James said this as he lowered his head and kissed Lena intimately.
The sound of their kiss echoed clearly through the space.
The video stopped.
The phone nearly slipped from my hand.
Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, blurring my vision. My mind went blank, my whole body overwhelmed by exhaustion.
So it turned out that the husband who always claimed to be busy, who had even kissed me apologetically just a few hours ago for missing our anniversary, was busy sleeping with his ex-girlfriend instead.
The man who had once vowed lifelong fidelity, who promised to love only me, had still ended up cheating.
How ridiculous.
A new message from Lena appeared almost immediately.
“So, how is it, you bitch? If you know what’s good for you, divorce James.”
“At least you can keep the last shred of your dignity.”
“The one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel. Make room for me to be by his side.”
The blatant provocation pierced me like a knife.
Yet I stubbornly wiped away my tears and, with trembling fingers, typed a reply.
My mind felt strangely clear.
“Don’t even think about it. As long as I’m still James’s wife, you’ll forever be nothing more than a mistress.”
“A filthy woman stealing someone else’s happiness.”
“He doesn’t even dare to introduce you to anyone.”
Perhaps my message enraged Lena, because more messages flooded in.
“You bitch. Fine. Then don’t blame me for being ruthless.”
“Do you want to see the gift he gave me today?”
Before I could even react, Lena sent a photo.
It was a picture of her wrist, adorned with a jade bracelet that gleamed brilliantly under the light.
The carved lotus pattern stood out with striking clarity.
My breath caught in my throat. My eyes widened in disbelief.
That bracelet was the keepsake my late grandmother had given me.
The object I cherished the most.
How could Lena have it?
Urgent and furious, I typed back.
“How did you get that?”
“That belongs to me. Give it back to me immediately!”
Lena’s reply came cold and indifferent.
“So what?”
“James gave it to me. That means it’s mine.”
“Everything you have, I’ll take it from you one by one.”
“Good night, loser.”
With that final taunt, Lena disappeared.
No matter how many messages I sent afterward, there was no reply.
I stared at the darkened screen, then at the pitch-black emptiness before me, the untouched dinner on the table, the cake with melted cream, the silent house.
Five years of marriage, reduced to a cruel joke.
The man I once believed would never abandon me, the man I thought would never leave me alone to be with another woman.
Perhaps everything had changed since that kidnapping incident back then.
Or rather, since Lena returned.
If everything had gone off course, I still had a way to force it back onto the right path.
To end this marriage.
To put an end to the days of enduring betrayal.
I let out a quiet sigh, wiped my tears dry, then gently rubbed my abdomen.
“Don’t worry, my love.”
I whispered.
“I won’t let you grow up in this rotten marriage.”
After that, I slowly unlocked my phone and called my personal lawyer, Charlie.
“Charlie, help me draft a divorce agreement.”
I said calmly.
“I can leave with nothing, as long as after the baby is born, the custody belongs to me.”
The faint glow of the phone illuminated my face, still streaked with tears.
This marriage
should have ended long ago.
