Betrayed by My Husband's Lavish Spending on Her

The smell of homemade lasagna filled my hands as I balanced the warm container, my key fumbling against the lock of Ethan's luxury apartment. I'd spent hours preparing his favorite meal, hoping to surprise him after his team practice. Three years of marriage, and I still got butterflies thinking about seeing his face light up.

The door swung open before I could turn the key. Light spilled from the living room, along with the sound of male laughter.

"—can't believe she bought it!" Ethan's voice, crisp and amused. "The look on her face when I told her it was for 'team bonding'—"

I froze in the entryway, the lasagna suddenly heavy in my hands. The video call was projected on the wall-mounted screen—three of Ethan's teammates lounging in what looked like the team house.

"Dude, your sugar mama is something else," Jake's voice came through the speaker, followed by snickers. "What did she spend this time?"

"New gaming setup. Top of the line. Cost more than your annual salary." Ethan leaned back in his gaming chair, looking every bit the confident esports star with his perfectly styled hair and designer clothes. My designer clothes. My credit card.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Another teammate whistled. "Personal ATM, right?"

"Better." Ethan's smile turned cruel. "She's my personal pathetic little wife. Thinks buying me things makes her part of my world."

The container nearly slipped from my fingers. Wife. He'd called me his wife. Not his secret wife—his pathetic little wife.

"Man, you're cold," Lucas's voice cut through, different from the others. I recognized him as the team captain, always more reserved. "She seems nice enough."

"She's nice enough for a walking wallet," Ethan replied, and the others laughed. "God, you should see her sometimes. Standing in the background at events, thinking no one notices her. Like a sad little puppy waiting for scraps of attention."

I backed away silently, setting the lasagna down on a side table. My chest felt tight, each breath a struggle. Three years of marriage, three years of supporting his career, and this was how he talked about me when I wasn't there.

"You're lucky she's so... devoted," Jake said, choosing his words carefully.

"Devoted?" Ethan snorted. "She's desperate. Lonely rich girl with no friends. Easy to manipulate."

I slipped into the hallway, my legs unsteady. The elevator seemed miles away.

---

Later that evening, I returned. Ethan had texted asking where I'd gone, his message casual as if nothing had happened. I'd replied that I'd forgotten something at home.

The apartment was quiet when I entered. Ethan must have been showering—I could hear water running. His laptop sat open on the kitchen counter, the screen glowing softly in the dim light.

I shouldn't have looked. Some part of me knew what I might find.

But I did look.

The browser was open to a jewelry website. A diamond necklace glittered on the screen—platinum chain with a pendant that caught the light in dozens of facets. The price made my stomach drop: $50,000.

Purchased. With my credit card.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled down to the order details. The recipient wasn't me.

"Lily Sullivan." The esports commentator. The woman who'd been at our wedding, who'd hugged me and called me "sister."

The laptop pinged with an incoming message. Ethan's email was still logged in.

"You're going to love it, L," read the subject line.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I clicked.

"Can't wait to see it around your neck. Something beautiful for someone who actually matters. Not like my clingy wife who thinks money makes her important. This is for us. For our real love."

Real love.

The bathroom door opened. Steam billowed out, and Ethan appeared in a towel, water droplets still clinging to his chest.

"Hey," he said casually. "You're back."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. My eyes were fixed on the screen.

"What's wrong?" He followed my gaze, and his expression shifted—not to guilt or shame, but annoyance.

"What is this?" I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan sighed, closing the laptop with a decisive click. "You shouldn't go through my things, Mia."

"That's my credit card," I said, finding strength in anger. "You bought her a fifty-thousand-dollar necklace with my money?"

"Come on." He rolled his eyes. "Don't make a scene."

"A scene? Ethan, you're giving expensive gifts to another woman!"

"Look," he said, his tone dismissive, "Lily deserves nice things. She actually contributes to my career. She's in the industry. She understands what I need."

"And what do I do?" The question escaped before I could stop it.

"You?" He laughed, the sound cutting through me like glass. "You throw money around and think that makes you valuable. Newsflash, Mia—it doesn't. It makes you pathetic."

I stood there, frozen, as he walked past me toward the bedroom.

"Grow up," he called over his shoulder. "And don't wait up."

---

The study was my sanctuary. The one room in the apartment I'd claimed as mine, with my books and my laptop and the window seat overlooking the city lights.

I sat at my desk, hands shaking as I logged into our joint accounts.

If there was one necklace, there would be more.

There was more.

Designer handbags. Spa treatments at exclusive resorts. First-class plane tickets. All for Lily Sullivan.

All paid for with my money.

I scrolled through months of transactions, each one a fresh wound. Over two hundred thousand dollars spent on his "real love" while I'd been eating instant noodles because I didn't want to "bother" him with grocery requests.

My phone buzzed with a notification. A social media tag.

Lily had posted a photo of herself at a luxury resort—the same one Ethan had booked for her last month. "Living the dream with my favorite person," the caption read. No mention of Ethan, but the diamond bracelet sparkling on her wrist was new. Another gift from my account.

I set my phone down and pressed my palms against my eyes.

---

That night, I couldn't sleep. Ethan's breathing had deepened into slumber beside me, but I lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I shouldn't have looked.

But I did.

"Can't wait until after Worlds," read the text from Lily. "So close to being free."

"Me too," Ethan had replied. "Just a few more months of playing nice with my walking wallet."

I set the phone down quietly, but another text came through.

"When are you going to tell her?" Lily asked.

"After Worlds. Once the contract is signed and I don't need her money anymore."

"And then?"

"Then we go public. No more hiding."

I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. In the hallway, I pressed my ear against the door of his home office.

His voice was low, but clear enough.

"I'll divorce her after Worlds," he was saying. "She's served her purpose."

A female laugh responded—Lily, on speakerphone.

"You're terrible," she said, but she was laughing. "Does she really not suspect anything?"

"Please," Ethan scoffed. "She's so desperate for love she'll believe anything I tell her. 'Oh Ethan, you're so amazing.' It's pathetic."

"That's what happens when lonely rich girls fall for famous boys," Lily replied. "They're so easy to manipulate."

I pressed my hand against my mouth to stifle the sound trying to escape from my throat.

In that moment, something inside me changed. Something hardened.

I was done being pathetic.