My intuition told me there would be a discovery if I opened it. Chase's account followed only one person. When I clicked on that person's profile, she had posted many details about her relationship. Last Saturday, she and her lover went to Bali, strolling hand in hand along the beach. In the photo, the man had a bite mark scar on the back of his hand, left from when I bit him during an episode to prevent myself from self-harm.

Last Saturday, Chase told me he had an important business trip and missed my father's birthday party because of it. On Wednesday, he claimed he had urgent work to handle and would stay late at the office. But that night, the mistress posted photos of her lover celebrating her birthday with a romantic candlelight dinner and a sweet night together.

That night, I had a sudden high fever and took a taxi alone to the hospital in the rain, not wanting to disturb his work. While I was getting an IV drip at the hospital, he was having an affair with another woman.

As I scrolled further, I discovered that most of the times Chase said he had business trips or urgent work, he was actually with this woman. They had been together for a year and I had been fooled by Chase for a year like an idiot.

The mistress's Instagram was filled with followers admiring their relationship and she responded with shy emojis. I sneered and put the phone back in its place.

I looked at Chase's terminal liver cancer report and emotionlessly stuffed it into the drawer. Although I wanted to see Chase's pained expression upon knowing he had little time left, I feared he would refuse to divorce me if he knew and I also worried the mistress might abandon him. Until I had concrete evidence of their affair to file for divorce, I couldn't break things off with them.

The moment I found out about his affair, I decided to divorce him. If I didn't, I'd have to keep vigil for him when he died and have my name engraved on his tombstone as his wife, which would disgust me for life.

The sound of water from the bathroom stopped. I lay back down and closed my eyes. Soon, Chase habitually pulled me into his arms and kissed my face before falling into a deep sleep. Once I heard his snores, I broke free from his embrace and wiped the spot he kissed. Just thinking about him kissing another woman recently made my stomach churn and I ran to the bathroom to throw up.

When you feel someone is dirty, touching them can indeed make you vomit. Chase endured me for so many years, after all.

I left the bathroom and went to sleep in the guest room to avoid hearing his snores and dreaming of ending him. Once I lay down again, I finally dared to cry out in the dark. Letting go of a ten-year relationship with Chase felt like carving out my heart.

We were considered a model couple by everyone and Chase was known for being devoted to his wife. In life, he treated me with care and tenderness, making me believe I had married for love. Now, I smelled the nauseating stench hidden beneath that love.

I didn't sleep all night and woke up with swollen eyes. There were important matters to attend to, so I couldn't stay in bed. After getting ready and going downstairs, I found Chase, who was supposed to be at work, still at home. Seeing him instantly irritated me, making me want to smash things to vent my frustration.

Chase's eyes lit up when he saw me. "Honey, you're awake? I made your favorite soup dumplings. Come and eat ... Honey, what's wrong with your eyes? Are you allergic? Let's go to the hospital and check."

Taking a deep breath, I couldn't continue pretending to love him. "No, I have urgent matters today. Eat by yourself. I'm not allergic, just didn't sleep well, no need for the hospital."

As I was about to walk past him, he grabbed my wrist, which I shook off with disdain. Chase looked momentarily shocked but quickly put on a flattering smile. "Honey, what did I do wrong? Tell me and I'll change immediately. Please don't ignore me."

I looked into his eyes, trying to find a trace of the Chase from the chat records. His acting was too good, all I saw was concern for me. I wanted to confront him, to tell him to stop pretending, but reason pulled me back. "No, I really have urgent matters to attend to." I needed to seek advice from my strategist.

Chase wouldn't let it go. "You're lying. Every time you're angry with me, you sleep in the guest room. Now you're impatient with me, I can feel it." He played the victim, looking hurt. "Have you fallen for someone else?"

I closed my eyes and reopened them, trying to calm him down. "No, I haven't. I'm just mad that you came home so late last night. I had planned to have breakfast with Hanna this morning. I'm really running late."

He suddenly leaned down, pointing to his cheek. "Then give me a good morning kiss like usual."

Whenever he was home, he insisted I kiss him before he left, saying it charged him up to work hard for our future. Now I saw why I had been so thoroughly deceived, his acting was impeccable and detailed. Losing to him wasn't unfair. Chase was like an Oscar-winning actor who even acted while sleeping, habitually holding me and kissing me before falling asleep.

To get away quickly, I reluctantly kissed his cheek and, as soon as I stepped outside, wiped my mouth with a tissue. Kissing such a bastard like him disgusted me.

"Has Chase finally shown his true colors?" My best friend, Hanna, remarked when she heard I wanted a divorce.

I hadn't even shown her the evidence yet. I thought she might try to persuade me otherwise since everyone, including my parents and friends, believed I was incredibly lucky to have found the perfect husband in Chase.

I remember Hanna once told me, "Don't trust Chase too much," and an idea went off in my head. "Did you already know about Chase's true nature?"

Hanna took a sip of her milk tea and waved her finger. "No! I just don't believe there are perfect men in this world. I firmly believe 'a man is only honest when he's on the wall as a picture.'"

I started to speak, but she made a stop gesture. "You're wondering why I didn't tell you?"

I nodded.

"With how infatuated you were with Chase, if I had told you, you would have cut ties with me. Besides, if Chase could deceive you for a lifetime, I thought that might not be such a bad thing." There was sincerity in Hanna's eyes.

Indeed, if she had told me earlier that Chase was a jerk, I would have thought she was crazy and distanced myself from her. During those dark times, Chase was my only light.

I showed Hanna the chat records between Chase and his mistress and asked, "If I use these chat records to file for divorce, what are the chances of success?"

After reading, Hanna couldn't help but curse, "Damn it! I could kill this scumbag!"

I grabbed her hand, "Calm down, Hanna. You're a lawyer. Don't act impulsively."

After digesting the information, she asked, "Do you have any other evidence?"

I showed her the mistress's Instagram posts. She sighed after browsing through them. "No, you can't prove that those chat records are between Chase and his mistress. No one besides him and the mistress knows about this account. The mistress's Instagram photos don't show her face clearly. Relying on the bite mark scar alone to identify Chase won't convince anyone but you and me. His good husband's image is too deeply ingrained. People would rather believe you cheated than believe Chase did, let alone believe he said such vile things about you to his mistress. Monica, you need to catch them red-handed for anyone to believe you."

This was the outcome I expected. After all, I had read a report about a woman who couldn't even get a divorce despite being severely abused and permanently disabled.

Hanna patted my head sympathetically, "Sweetie, you must be feeling terrible, right?"

Her words made my nose tingle and I couldn't hold back my tears. Hanna handed me a tissue and cautiously asked, "Monica, if … just if … Chase regrets his actions and promises to cut ties with the mistress and live well with you, would you forgive him?"

I loved Chase too much for her not to have this thought. I had considered this question many times and the answer was always, "No. Once a cheater, always a cheater."

Cheating isn't a one-time thing, it happens repeatedly. I didn't want to become someone who lived in constant fear of my husband's infidelity. That wasn't me. I loved myself more than I loved him.

Hanna sighed in relief. "That's good. I was really worried you might get soft-hearted. If I help you with the divorce and then Chase regrets it and you give him a second chance, I'd end up the bad guy."

She continued asking, "Monica, do you have any leads on the mistress?"

I noted down the mistress's Big Eye account and followed her. This account had few followers and seemed created specifically to document her relationship with Chase. From the people she followed, I found a likely suspect.

"Sabrina Stewart? Chase's first love?" Hanna added, "If it's her, then Chase is truly despicable."

It's not surprising she said that because Chase really was that low. Sabrina was Chase's first girlfriend. They had an early romance in high school, but after graduation, Sabrina left Chase, who was still a poor boy, to study abroad with a wealthy second-generation heir. According to Chase's friends, he was devastated and even attempted suicide over her.

I hadn't paid attention to Sabrina before, thinking she was part of Chase's past and not worth worrying about. But I forgot how strong the pull of an ex-girlfriend could be. 'When an ex cries, the current lover always loses,' was not just an empty saying.

Last night, I traced Samantha's account to Sabrina's and found that she returned to the country a year ago with the title of a genius fashion designer. Her posts matched the times and places Chase claimed to be on business trips. Most importantly, both Samantha and Sabrina had identical moles on the backs of their hands.

Seeing Sabrina's face and combining it with Samantha's chat records with Chase, I sadly realized I might really be Sabrina's substitute. We shared a similar appearance and with the same hairstyle and clothes, we could be at least seventy percent alike.

"A so-called genius fashion designer, but her designs aren't as good as yours." Hanna scoffed.

I majored in fashion design in college and my mentor once said I had great talent and could become a rising star in the industry if I persisted. But that incident nearly destroyed my will, leading me to quit my job and focus on recuperating at home. Over the past three years, I completed ten designs but never turned them into finished products, locking them all in my studio. It's been almost a year since I last looked at them or picked up a pencil.

After discussing our strategy, I prepared to go home and pack, telling Chase I was going on a trip with Hanna to unwind. I didn't have his impeccable acting skills and was afraid of giving myself away before obtaining concrete evidence of his infidelity. If he knew I wanted a divorce, he would take action. The cost of divorce was too high for him to bear.

As we walked out, we saw a somewhat familiar person. Seeing her, my breath caught and I felt transported back to that helpless night.

Hanna quickly pulled me away, constantly reassuring me, "Monica, it's all over. Breathe with me, inhale ... exhale ... repeat three times."

Once I calmed down, Hanna drove me home. Halfway there, she suddenly spoke, "Monica, the person opposite her is the most famous divorce lawyer in Seaside City."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Monica, if you want to take him down, you might consider going through her. Spouses know many secrets about each other," Hanna said.

I shook my head, "Let's just focus on the divorce first."

Hanna sighed and continued driving in silence.

When I got home, I found Chase still there, which immediately ruined my mood further.

Chase looked displeased when he saw Hanna. "Hanna, as a lawyer, if you don't have any clients, you should find someone to date instead of stealing my wife. I finally returned from a business trip and wanted to spend some time alone with her, but you whisked her away on a trip. How is that acceptable?"

Chase and Hanna never got along well. Hanna couldn't stand him, thinking he was fake. Chase, meanwhile, was too deep into his role. My close relationship with Hanna made him jealous.