I ended my fellowship course early and returned to the United States. As soon as I got off the plane, I saw Erick Lawrence standing in the waiting area. Dressed in a black trench coat, he appeared intense, focused intently on the exit. Such a handsome man, with so much emotion in his eyes, was truly captivating, especially with a bouquet of red roses in his hand, blooming vibrantly.

Erick rarely displayed such grandeur. After being his wife for five years, I knew him well. He must have found out about my early return and come to the airport to pick me up. Just as I was about to walk over, a visibly pregnant woman hurried past me and leapt into his arms: "Honey, the baby and I missed you so much."

Erick held her tightly, and the romantic scene drew applause and cheers from onlookers. I gripped the handle of my suitcase tightly; he was her husband—what about my husband?

...

I froze at the exit, only to be bumped by someone's suitcase from behind. "Why are you just standing there? Can't you see there’s someone behind you?" they grumbled loudly.

The loving couple was disturbed by the commotion. Erick lifted his gaze and his eyes met mine through the crowd. I couldn't tell who felt more awkward.

Discovering your husband is cheating at the airport—it sounds like the kind of soap opera plot no one dares to write.

The stiffness in Erick made the woman in his arms suspicious. She followed his gaze, and upon seeing me, her face turned pale. It turned out we all knew each other; I hadn't recognized her from behind, but the pregnant woman was none other than my best friend, Cassandra Robinson.

I took a deep breath and walked over. Cassandra's face was ashen, and she quickly hid behind Erick, mumbling, "Eden, you're back."

The grip on my suitcase turned my knuckles white as I looked directly into Erick's eyes and asked with difficulty, "Can someone explain what's happening here?"

"If I hadn’t come back early, I might never have known that the two most important people in my life had simultaneously betrayed me."

Cassandra stepped forward as if to explain but then touched her obviously pregnant belly and returned to Erick's side, looking at me with a pitiful expression, "I'm sorry, Eden, we didn't mean to keep it from you..."

I didn’t miss the fleeting look of triumph in Cassandra's eyes, and I raised my hand, delivering a sharp slap.

The sound of the slap shocked Cassandra, and no one expected the usually gentle me to hit someone.

Erick comforted Cassandra tenderly and frowned at me, "I wanted to tell you sooner but worried it would affect your studies, so I didn’t. Cassie said you valued your education greatly, and if it affected your studies, she would feel guilty."

"Everything Cassie did was for your sake. You should understand her good intentions."

"If you're going to blame someone, blame me. It’s all my fault."

Cassandra covered her face, her eyes red, looking at me, trying to speak but not daring, just sniffling and saying, "Eden, can we talk at home?"

Home? My and Erick’s home, or her and Erick’s home?

I didn’t want to know anymore. This sudden shock hit me like a ton of bricks. I tightly gripped the handle, trying to maintain the last shred of dignity. I replied slowly, "No need, my mentor sent a car for me."

"Now I just want to know one thing: how long have you been together?"

Cassandra, holding her belly, fearfully stepped back, and Erick stepped forward, shielding her behind him. "The timing doesn’t matter anymore. The child she's carrying is mine. If you want to yell or hit, go ahead. Since you don’t want us to take you home, we’ll talk at home later."

The two walked away arm in arm, leaving me standing at the airport with my heart feeling as hollow as a winter wind blowing through a valley.

The anticipation and joy of flying thousands of miles had turned into the biggest joke of all.

Two years ago, at my mentor's suggestion, I went abroad for further studies. Initially, I hesitated, but Erick Lawrence reassured me, "Every woman should have her own career. Go for it. I'll be waiting when you return."

My best friend, Cassandra Robinson, added, "I know you're worried about Erick. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him to make sure he stays faithful."

Little did I know, Erick stayed faithful to her.

When I returned home, Erick was already there, the house filled with the scent of cigarette smoke. I swapped my shoes for slippers and walked in, leaving my suitcase by the door. Erick looked at me seriously and said, "About Cassandra and me, don't blame her; it's all my doing."

"I know she's your best friend, and I shouldn't have gotten involved with her, but love is irrational. I couldn't help it, and I was compelled to follow my heart."

"Listen, Eden, we know each other so well; it's almost like we're numb to each other. But Cassandra is different—she's like a breath of fresh air. I know I've wronged you, and no matter how much you resent me, I can't let her go."

"She said she doesn't care about labels; she just wants my child. She's given up so much, and I can't let her down."

"You were away for two years, focused on your career, and during my lonely times here, Cassandra was always there for me. I admit I fell for her, and that's why we're together now."

He talked about their relationship like it was a romantic drama, leaving me numb and despondent.

Cassandra made him feel alive, like he couldn't lose her. And what about me? What did our five-year marriage mean?

When he started his business, we were broke and struggling. I lived with him in a dingy basement, eating cheap food and making him stew when he overindulged in drinking. During our toughest times, I even sold my parents' house to support him financially.

For three years, we struggled together. His company was barely making any money, and I used my salary and side jobs to support it. I didn’t dare visit a doctor when I felt ill, for fear of the expense. I always pushed through on my own.

The irregular meals from working so hard and taking on extra jobs worsened my stomach issues, but I never mentioned it to Erick.

Now that his company is thriving, Cassandra, who got a job as his assistant through my connections, was the one by his side, helping him through challenges while I was gone.

My sacrifices seemed to disappear, like smoke, no longer remembered by him. His only issue was loneliness, and Cassandra's company made him feel complete.

I felt a chill of bitterness, staring at him. "Erick Lawrence, we dated for four years and have been married for five. Nine years together don't measure up to Cassandra's two years? Your so-called love overshadows everything we had?"

The study program required two years, and I worked tirelessly to finish early—studying hard, researching, staying up late—just to come back sooner for him.

But now, everything I did seems meaningless. My efforts have turned into a joke, with Erick and Cassandra as the audience.

Erick stubbed out his cigarette and opened the window to let in the cold air, which made me shiver. He explained, "Cassandra is pregnant and can't stand the smell of smoke, so I'm airing it out."

Turning back to me, he said seriously, "I only feel a familial bond with you now, not love. Eden, let's end this. Two years really can change everything. I don't want to keep you in limbo anymore. Let's separate."

"We should go our separate ways," he said so casually, while I was left with bitterness. With a single phrase, he dismissed all the years we shared.

His phone rang, and he answered. I could hear the voice on the other end through the speakerphone: "Honey, when are you coming back? The baby is craving some ravioli. Could you bring us some on your way home?"

"Did I call at a bad time? If Eden is still upset, stay with her and talk things out. I can manage on my own," the voice said, filled with concern and careful probing.

Erick replied softly, "I'm coming back soon and will definitely bring you and the baby some ravioli. Don't overthink it."

The tenderness on his face was something I hadn't seen in a long time, a look that used to be just for me and was now for another woman.

Clutching my aching stomach, I recalled the excitement I felt upon returning. I hadn't eaten on the flight, and now the pain was worsening. My face turned pale as I collapsed onto the couch, unable to speak from the sharp discomfort.

Erick looked at me, frowning. "Eden Bennett, playing the weak card doesn't suit you. Cassandra is pregnant and needs someone around. Don’t think acting frail will change my mind—it won't work."

"Even if I stay tonight, it won't change anything. I won't touch you or betray Cassandra."

"Just say it's my fault. Name your terms for the divorce, and let me know when you decide. But don't bother Cassandra; she's fragile right now and can't handle the stress."

"I hope we can part on good terms."

I rolled my eyes, wordless and overwhelmed. A cheating man is a disgrace.

Erick left quickly, seemingly eager to distance himself.

The door hadn’t even closed when I heard him on the phone while waiting for the elevator: "I'm on my way down now. Don't be jealous. I told you I'd come back to you; why would I spend the night with her? I always keep my promises, silly."

Saying I wasn’t hurt would be a lie. The empty house around me reminded me of our past.

That night, I held back tears until I couldn't anymore. Yes, it hurt.

If Erick had cheated with another woman, I wouldn't have been as devastated. But why did it have to be Cassandra, my best friend? It felt like a knife to my chest, followed by another in my back from someone I considered family.

My stomach cramps were unbearable, sweat dripping from my forehead. Trembling, I called Joey Elliott, my colleague who had returned to the country with me. "Joey, help me," I whispered before losing consciousness.

I woke up in the hospital to find Joey sitting at my bedside, his arms crossed and a look of frustration on his face. "You're really something else," he said, sounding completely exasperated. "You were dead set on rushing back for your husband, and now you've landed yourself with a bleeding ulcer. I never imagined you'd let love cloud your judgment like this. If our mentor finds out, you're going to be in a heap of trouble."

I wanted to laugh but couldn't; instead, tears streamed down my cheeks.

Joey looked taken aback. "Why are you crying just because I scolded you? Where's your husband, anyway? Why isn't he the one who brought you here, and why did I get called instead?"

Through my tears, I confided in him, feeling like a wounded child seeking comfort from family. "He's fallen for another woman. I'm getting a divorce."

Joey watched me cry, seemingly at a loss for words, but he tried to reassure me. "Are you sure this isn't just a misunderstanding?"

I shook my head, my voice barely audible, "He's in love with my best friend. Their baby is almost due."

Joey sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before saying, "I'll help you find a lawyer. The love might be gone, but the money should stay. You've worked just as hard to build his success; don't walk away empty-handed."

Right, everyone else is more sensible than I am. I'm the fool who poured nine years into a misguided devotion, only to end up like this.

I could still picture Erick's eyes, which no longer held any warmth, as he delivered his cold words, "Being with Cassandra made me feel alive again, Eden. You understand, I don't want to lie, especially not to you."

"And that's what you liked about me, right? That I never deceive."

So, because he didn't want to lie to me, he somehow felt justified in having an affair and bluntly telling me: I've achieved my dreams, but you no longer excite me, and I want a divorce. His honesty was his excuse.

I've stopped questioning whether Erick ever loved me because I believe he did. The young man fresh out of school, waiting for me awkwardly in the bitter cold with a hot spiced honey cake wrapped in his coat—that was love. The man who applied heat to my aching legs in our drafty Victorian-style house, tears in his eyes—that was love. The man who shielded me from the rain with his coat, leaving himself soaked and feverish the next day—that was love too.

I don't doubt he loved me once, but I know he doesn't love me now.

During the week I spent in the hospital, I didn't hear a word from Erick. No calls, no messages. His WhatsApp status was blank, and so was Cassandra's. I created a new account, pretending to sell baby items, and added Cassandra.

She accepted quickly, and when I checked her status, I realized she'd blocked me from seeing her updates. Her posts were filled with snapshots of their daily bliss.

"Focused men are the most attractive, undeniable heart flutters,” she wrote, alongside a candid picture of Erick signing documents.

"I walked with him from sunset till dark. I'm envious of Eden; having someone to miss this much. If it were me, I'd give up everything just for a moment like this," she mused, a month after I had left for my trip.

"He called me a fool as I shielded him from the rain, and I blushed like a girl new to love. This must be what a heart-throb feels like," she posted three months after I departed.

"Erick, I like you," she declared, six months after I was gone.

"Heaven heard my prayers. Erick said: I like you too. From then on, I decided to be the villain, betraying the world to be with him," seven months into my absence.

"You and I, one plus one, equals three. Congratulations on becoming a father."

"He said: You and the baby are his whole world. He'll give us all his love."

"I trust time will pass, but our love will remain unchanged," was accompanied by a photo of their interlocked fingers, a diamond ring glinting on her finger. The ring was part of a set of wedding rings—hers and Erick's, not mine.

Cassandra liked to share her everyday life and thoughts as if keeping a journal, and I read their love story as if it were a diary. I cried rivers for myself, for what seemed so unjust.

In the two years since I left, they've been wrapped in passionate love, even bringing a child into this world.