After hanging up on Bruce in a daze, I immediately received a message from him.

[I'll be home in half an hour. If you're hungry, there's cake in the fridge. Have some to hold you over.]

I stared blankly at the message, almost mechanically tapping on Bruce's profile picture.

Just at that moment, his profile picture changed.

Originally, it had been a photo of the two of us together, but now it had switched to something unsettlingly familiar.

It was a photo of a steering wheel, with a hand adorned with a pink rhinestone sticker clumsily placed on it.

Wait... isn't this the same profile picture I saw earlier today, the one that belonged to that despicable person?

Does this mean that person was Bruce all along?

All those vile comments in the thread, were they really his true thoughts? Did he really type out all those nasty words, one by one?

Staring at the profile picture, I felt an inexplicable chill run down my spine.

Maybe it was my pregnancy hormones making me impulsive, but I dialed his number without a second thought.

Bruce picked up almost immediately, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

Suppressing the turmoil inside me, I casually mentioned a few snacks I was craving before finally steering the conversation to the topic at hand.

"Bruce, why did you change your profile picture?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by his nonchalant reply.

"Oh, it's nothing. I was driving to work this morning and noticed that cute pink rhinestone you stuck on the wheel. I thought it was adorable, so I snapped a picture and changed it."

As soon as those words left his mouth, I felt myself sink to rock bottom.

How could a photo he took this morning have already been stolen and used by someone else?

People say pregnancy makes you a bit slow, but I was not so out of it that I would overlook something this blatant.

After hanging up, I was utterly uneasy, counting the minutes until seven o'clock at night.

At precisely 7:10 PM, Bruce returned home, carrying all sorts of snacks I loved.

But the more considerate he acted, the more uneasy I became.

As I stared at the assortment of high-fat, high-sugar, high-calorie treats, a chilling comment I had read earlier came to mind.

[Feed your wife more of these fattening foods. That way, even if nothing goes wrong, the baby will be so big she'll have a difficult delivery.]

The thought made me shiver involuntarily.

How terrifying it was to think that the person who shared my bed could be harboring such dark intentions against me.

Yet as I watched Bruce carefully peel the fruit for me, then tie on an apron to start cooking, I was overwhelmed with sadness and confusion.

Could it be that all the kindness he'd shown me over the years was just an act?

Just then, Bruce's phone, left on the sofa, suddenly rang.

Since Bruce and I got together, I'd always had free access to his phone.

But because I trusted him, I never felt the need to snoop.

I glanced at his phone, seeing the screen light up with a notification, and suddenly a thought crossed my mind.

I knew Bruce's lock screen password, but even without unlocking it, I could see the message preview.

It was a WhatsApp message from someone who seemed to be a dealer of some kind.

[Hey, did you receive the package? If you ever need more, just let me know. I'll give you a discount next time. Also, be careful with that stuff—just a little goes a long way. Too much, and it could be lethal.]

Reading that message felt like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless.

I was about to check what exactly Bruce had ordered when his voice suddenly sounded from behind me.

"Honey, dinner's ready. I made your favorite—braised short ribs and spaghetti."

I dragged myself to the dining table.

Looking at the gleaming, oily dishes laid out before me, I had no appetite at all.

Bruce frowned in concern and asked, "Sweetheart, are you feeling unwell? If you're not feeling good, you must tell me. Don't push yourself."

I shook my head slowly.

"Bruce, I'm not unwell. I just filled up on the snacks you bought earlier and can't eat any more."

Bruce looked both upset and a bit guilty.

"I knew I shouldn't have bought you so many junk foods. They're unhealthy, and if you eat too much, it could upset your stomach."

I watched him continue his performance, my heart growing colder with each word.

Yes, the outside food might be unclean and could upset my stomach if I ate too much.

But the food at home? That could kill me.

Bruce noticed that I had lost my appetite and spent a good while comforting me before clearing the dishes and preparing to take a shower.

As he gathered his clothes, I observed that he also took his phone into the bathroom with him.

The reality was clear—I no longer harbored any illusions about Bruce.

But I still couldn't understand what had gone wrong between us.

The man who once loved me so fiercely that he was willing to defy the world now despised me to the point where he wished me dead, even wanting to harm the child I carried.

It was as if I were living in a nightmare.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I might have believed someone had cast a spell on Bruce.

Had he fallen in love with someone else, eager to escape this marriage? Or was there something else, something he couldn't tell me?

But no matter the reason, I had been his lover, standing by him from college to marriage. How could he be so heartless?

Without realizing it, tears had streamed down my face.

Bruce emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered.

While he dried his hair, I quickly wiped away the tears.

I knew that now was not the time to cry.

After drying his hair, Bruce went into the kitchen and returned with a cup of honey water.

He handed it to me with a gentle smile.

"Darling, you barely ate tonight. This honey is from Australia, brought back by a friend. They say it's great for your skin and might help you sleep better."

Not long ago, I'd been struggling with sleepless nights due to the baby's movements. Bruce had been so concerned.

If I hadn't discovered his secret account, I might have once again fallen for his tenderness.

But now, his actions only sent a chill through me.

I placed the honey water on the table and turned to him, asking, "Which friend of yours was so thoughtful?

"Going abroad and bringing back honey—it must have been a hassle. You should tell me who it is, so I can thank them with a dinner."

Bruce's face stiffened, and I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes.

I smiled knowingly.

"Or did you just buy it from a dealer and didn't want me to worry it might be fake, so you made up a story about a friend?"

I paused and added, "Why don't you let me see your chat history?"

Bruce awkwardly cleared his throat and playfully tousled my hair.

"Darling, you really do let your imagination run wild. But I won't hold it against you, especially since you're the family's little treasure right now."

He quickly changed the subject, then took his phone and retreated to the bathroom again.

He said that he needed to check the floor for water to prevent me from slipping if I got up in the night.

Such a thoughtful husband, but who knew if he was really in there deleting or editing his messages?

The thought made my heart ache.

It was not because Bruce might have fallen out of love but because I realized all the love I had given over the years was for nothing.

But I didn't have time to dwell on my sadness. While Bruce was in the bathroom, I quietly poured the honey water into the trash.

When Bruce returned and saw the empty glass, he sighed with relief.

He smiled and praised me for being good, but my heart only sank deeper into despair.

It was midnight, and Bruce was fast asleep, but I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes.

Restless and full of dread, I carefully reached for the phone he had left on the nightstand.