On our fifth wedding anniversary, I took the day off to stay home and prepare a special dinner, only to get a message from Ethan Lyle: “Lyle Technologies has some urgent matters tonight. I’ll need to work late. You should rest early.”

In that moment, all my excitement and anticipation crumbled to dust.

I couldn't just let it go, so I texted him back: “Can you come home earlier? Have you forgotten what today is?”

…

Today marks five years since I married Ethan. I had taken the day off, planning to cook him a lavish meal and celebrate the occasion.

Standing in front of the mirror, I adjusted my makeup and hairstyle again and again, striving for perfection. In the drawer of my bedside table was the lingerie I’d bought in advance. I had also prepared wine and fresh flowers, hoping to make the night unforgettable.

I met Ethan back in college when he and a few friends started a small tech company while I ventured into writing novels.

Normally, I wouldn’t go to such lengths to please him, but over the past six months, his increasingly distant behavior had started to raise alarm bells in my mind.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message.

"Lyle Technologies has some urgent matters tonight. I’ll need to work late. You should rest early."

Reading it, all of my excitement turned to dust.

Undeterred, I asked again: "Can’t you come back earlier? Have you forgotten what today is?"

My message went unanswered.

I waited for half an hour, but when he still hadn’t replied, I called him—only for it to go straight to voicemail.

When Lyle Technologies was just starting out, Ethan used to come home late, drunk, after a long day of pitching ideas and meeting with partners.

I understood the pressure he was under, so I’d always make him a comforting soup to sober him up when he got home.

For five years, I’d played the role of the thoughtful, obedient wife, but I couldn’t accept being stood up on our wedding anniversary.

After all, just a week ago, we’d agreed that he would be home to celebrate with me.

I quickly threw on a jacket and grabbed a cab to Ethan’s office.

There was no sign of his car downstairs. Frustrated, I called him again—but it went unanswered.

Somewhere along the way, we had gone from blissful newlyweds to this strange place where he could disappear without a word whenever he felt like it.

Every time, he’d use the “working late” excuse, asking me to be understanding, making me feel like I should always be patient and compliant.

I pushed the swirling thoughts aside and returned home, feeling utterly defeated.

Around midnight, Ethan finally stumbled through the door, the sound of him opening it waking me up.

The dinner I’d so carefully prepared was cold, and the wine in the decanter had already aired out but was untouched.

The first thing Ethan did upon seeing me was frown. “Didn’t I tell you? I had to work late tonight. Why are you still awake?”

“I just dozed off on the couch for a while. What happened at the company? Was it really that urgent?”

Rubbing my eyes, I walked over to take his coat.

But the next moment, I froze.

Though the heavy scent of alcohol lingered on him, I distinctly caught a faint whiff of rose perfume.

It wasn’t the perfume I wore.

I stood there, staring at him, trying to push down the thoughts racing through my mind.

No, it can’t be. I must be mistaken. Maybe one of his female clients wore rose perfume at the meeting?

In my eyes, Ethan had always been driven, responsible, and no matter what, if he was around, there was no problem that couldn’t be solved.

I should trust him unconditionally.

How could he possibly betray me after all these years we’ve spent together? I can't let myself overthink this just because of a little bit of perfume.

Even as I kept trying to reassure myself, the smile on my face began to fade. I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with his tired face, searching for any sign of the man I once knew.

"I tried calling you several times tonight, but you didn’t answer. You never used to be like this," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

"My phone died, so I left it at the front desk to charge. When I saw your missed calls, I came back right away. Sorry, this won’t happen again," Ethan replied, taking off his gold-rimmed glasses and speaking to me in a calm, almost indifferent tone.

Suddenly, it felt like the man standing in front of me wasn’t even Ethan anymore. The boy who used to always smile, who used to be full of warmth and affection, had somehow disappeared. I couldn’t find a trace of the love we once shared, not even a whisper of it.

I forced a smile and asked, "Didn’t I remind you what day it is today? Where’s my gift?"

Without missing a beat, Ethan pulled out his phone and transferred two thousand dollars to me. "I’ve been so busy lately, I didn’t have time to think about these little things. I sent you some money; go buy something you like. If it’s not enough, just let me know."

Before I could say a word, he turned and walked into the bathroom, taking his phone with him.

He didn’t notice the disbelief on my face. In that moment, it felt like an invisible hand had grabbed my heart and dragged me into a bottomless abyss.

Ethan had drunk a lot that evening. After taking a shower, he collapsed into bed, asleep within minutes. I could hear his steady breathing beside me, but after a long struggle, I couldn’t resist anymore. I reached for his phone.

It was the first time I’d ever actively snooped through his phone. The password was no longer our wedding anniversary, and it took several attempts before I finally guessed it right.

I scrolled through his messages, and everything seemed normal—mostly just work stuff and client communications.

There was nothing unusual in his contacts either; I was still pinned at the top.

Just as I began to calm down, telling myself it was nothing, a thought suddenly flashed in my mind.

I had once seen a post about how women could uncover their man’s secrets through his phone.

The first item on the list was bills.

I spent my salary on myself, while Ethan’s income covered our household expenses.

Lately, I’d been busy with work and hadn’t had the time to ask him about things, so I decided to check the bills. I clicked on the most recent transaction.

But the moment I saw it, my relief shattered.

An hour ago, Ethan had made a transfer of 52,000 dollars.

And the timing? It matched exactly the moment I couldn’t reach him—the same time he’d told me his phone was charging at the front desk.

My heart began pounding heavily in my chest, and my hands shook, barely able to hold the phone steady.

I knew I was about to uncover something ugly, but in that moment, I couldn’t stop myself.

On the billing page, there was an option for online fund transfers linked to his account. Without thinking, I clicked on it.

I didn’t expect Ethan to be so generous—52,000 dollars each time, and even more surprising, these transfers happened once a month. Once, he had even transferred money twice in a single month.

The recipient's name was a girl named Cherry, with a cute anime avatar.

I scrolled through the transfer records. It started six months ago.

If the amounts had varied, I might have convinced myself that there was a reasonable explanation—maybe it was a client or some business-related transaction. But why was every transfer exactly 52,000?

Why did it have to be that same, glaringly painful number?

Just moments ago, I was overwhelmed with heartache, but now, strangely, I felt an eerie calm settle over me.

I found a contact named Cherry in my list. There were no chat records—likely deleted—and the way she’d been added to his contacts was telling. It looked like they’d connected by scanning each other’s QR codes.

Next, I opened Cherry’s Instagram, and what I saw there took my breath away.

Just five minutes ago, she’d posted a series of pictures.

“Thanks, babe, for spending my birthday with me.”

In the photo, she was smiling sweetly, and behind her on the sofa, there was a huge bouquet of bright red roses. A gift box sat on the table next to her, and in the bottom right corner of the picture, there was a hand wearing a watch.

The hand was elegant, with long, slender fingers and distinct knuckles. It looked like it belonged to someone who played the piano.

That watch. It was unmistakable.

It was the same one I’d bought for Ethan as our wedding gift, the one he’d worn every day since.

Today was our fifth anniversary, and yet, he had left me at home, came up with some lame excuse, and spent the day with another woman for her birthday.

He had transferred 20,000 USD to me, but to her, he was sending 50,000—sometimes more—every month.

I couldn’t make sense of it. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

Ethan knew me too well. He knew that if he used work as an excuse, no matter how upset I was, I’d swallow my frustration and just deal with it.

Because I was always too understanding, too accommodating—did that give him the confidence to be so reckless behind my back?

Since I never checked his phone, all the evidence of his affairs was right there, untouched. He only deleted the chat history.

I sat in the living room, feeling numb. I couldn’t help but glance at the dinner still waiting for me on the table.

In that moment, I felt like the biggest fool, the biggest joke.

My lover had been playing me like a puppet, pulling my strings and making me dance. And here I was, still trying to figure out how to make him happy, how to restore our relationship to what it once was.

It turns out, the signs were there all along.

When he started pulling away from me, he had already found someone else to care for, someone more worthy of his attention.

Tears filled my eyes, and it felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into me. The pain in my chest was like a knife, cutting deep and suffocating me.

Only those who’ve been betrayed after years of love can truly understand how excruciating and hopeless that moment feels.

I opened Cherry’s transfer page, and the name displayed was just the last letter: a “C.”

I took a deep breath, then quietly walked into the bathroom with my phone in hand.

I sent Cherry a message:

“I’ve had quite a bit to drink and can’t sleep.”

I wasn’t sure how Ethan usually chatted with her, so I just tried to test the waters with a vague message.

She replied quickly:

“Ethan, are you really going to talk to me at a time like this?”

Even through the screen, I could sense the surprise in her voice.