Sophie, my husband Ethan's first love, posted a transfer of assets in our community group, filled with sentimental words, "After a five-year love run, I can finally marry you cleanly. Thank you for spending your fortune to ease my worries."

In a fit of anger, I tagged everyone in the group and shared a photo of our marriage certificate.

Almost instantly, Ethan called me via video, his eyes red with fury.

"I just sent Sophie some money! Can you stop making a scene?"

I hung up and blocked him, feeling the weight of divorce settle in.

——

"Emma! What does hanging up mean?"

Ethan stormed in, knocking over a critical medical notice I had been holding.

I quietly bent down to pick it up, biting my lip tightly.

It was just cancer; it wasn't that serious...

At least that's what I kept telling myself, even as tears streamed down my face.

Today was my birthday, marking one month since my lung cancer diagnosis, while my husband was off with another woman.

My illness was a consequence of supporting Ethan during his startup days.

I had stood by him when he was just a struggling entrepreneur, helping him compare raw material prices and build his business from the ground up.

But now he had changed—becoming increasingly cold and volatile.

He dismissed my pain as mere theatrics and resented me for managing household chores.

For days, I noticed Ethan signing contracts and transferring multiple properties.

I had hoped he was selling assets to raise funds for my treatment, which made me feel warm inside.

But seeing him fuming now made my heart sink.

His transformation had nothing to do with me.

It seemed he had just returned from Sophie's place; I could still catch the faint scent of her perfume on him.

My gaze fell to his feet—pink fuzzy slippers that were clearly matching with hers.

When the silence stretched, Ethan impatiently shoved me, and the force knocked me to the ground.

He merely scoffed and turned away.

"What am I even hoping for..." I thought, exhausted, as I closed my eyes and picked myself up off the floor, eventually crawling back into bed.

Later that night, a body reeking of alcohol flopped down beside me.

I opened my eyes and pushed Ethan's arm off me.

Just yesterday, he had criticized my figure and claimed wanting a child was a waste of genes; now he was wrapping me in his arms.

His sudden affection felt suspicious—was it genuine or a manipulation?

Sure enough, Ethan pulled me close again, his tone overly sweet.

"Honey, I know you're understanding. You won't hold what happened with Sophie against me, right?"

"Sophie told me she just lost some money in business. Once I help her out of her financial mess, I swear we'll never see each other again."

I couldn't help but smirk at his audacity.

To speak so brazenly about cheating and secretly transferring marital assets—Ethan truly took the cake!

I threw off the covers and grabbed a pillow, intending to sleep in the guest room.

But Ethan's expression darkened; he clearly hadn't expected me to stand up for myself.

"Emma! Are you really that shameless? I'm talking to you nicely; why are you acting like this?"

"Had it not been for my hard work, you wouldn't be living this life! Without me, you'd be nothing!"

"You're always acting like a crazy person, wallowing in self-pity. Sophie is so much more gentle and caring than you! I'm just letting you know about this; you don't have the right to interfere!"

He continued to rant for three straight minutes, unleashing all his disdain and contempt for me.

Finally, he feigned concern, "I've checked on you while you're sick; don't get too cocky. I'm going to see Sophie tomorrow."

I shut the door with a blank expression, unable to suppress a bitter laugh.

My fake, empty marriage mocked me; I felt foolish for not seeing through him sooner.

In Ethan's eyes, I was just a sickly wife whose only role was to manage household chores.

I didn't even measure up to Sophie; any criticism I had of her was rooted in jealousy of her youth and beauty.

Ethan relentlessly exploited my feelings for him while I suffered in silence—truly a self-inflicted wound!

The next morning, I went to the hospital alone.

As for Ethan, I didn't need to guess where he was; he was probably upstairs with Sophie again.

We had worked so hard to secure a loan for this apartment, but on his very first day of making money, he bought the unit above us for Sophie.

As I made my way to the hospital, I received countless calls from my colleagues.

Ethan spent his days with Sophie while I handled nearly everything at the company.

My coworkers informed me that there were issues with the company's cash flow, but they couldn't reach Ethan at all.

I hung up the phone, filled with irony.

According to the asset transfer documents, they were likely busy preparing asset proofs.

I had booked an appointment with the best specialist, but the results left me shaken.

"I'm sorry, Emma; there's really nothing more we can do about your lung issues."

The doctor's sympathetic voice echoed in my ears as I stumbled out of the hospital, sitting dazed on the curb.

Even though he hadn't given me a timeline, I knew deep down that my time was limited.

The asset verification office was conveniently located next to the hospital.

Perhaps it was fate; as I regained my composure, I ran into Ethan and Sophie walking hand in hand.

"Emma, I know you're upset with Sophie, but you can't just stalk her!"

Ethan rushed up to me, his anger palpable as he labeled me a stalker.

Sophie stood behind him, casually tossing her hair and wearing a serene smile.

"Ethan, don't be too hard on Emma; I'm sure she didn't mean any harm," she said sweetly, but it felt like she was fanning the flames of conflict.

Ethan's tone grew sharper.

"No matter how unreasonable you are, you can't interfere in my relationship with Sophie!"

I stared at them, incredulous.

Their affair was common knowledge; did they really need me to explain it?

"If you're losing your mind, go see a doctor next door instead of making baseless accusations here," I shot back without holding back.

I had little time left anyway; there was no need to play house with these two.

Ethan seemed taken aback by my defiance, and Sophie stepped closer.

They each grabbed one of my arms, refusing to let me go.

"There's nothing going on between me and Sophie! Why can't you just drop it?"

"Emma, if you don't believe me and Ethan, I promise I won't show my face around you again," Sophie said, feigning tears that softened Ethan's heart.

He shoved me aside and wrapped his arms around her instead.

"It's okay, Sophie; I'll give you whatever you want."

My body felt weak from their relentless targeting.

Suddenly, my legs gave out beneath me, and I fell to the ground, scraping my knees and arms painfully against the pavement.

"Ow..." I winced as pain shot through me.

Sophie pretended to come over to help but deliberately pushed me down again.

With a cold expression, I shook off her hand and leaned against the wall to stand up slowly.

Just then, Sophie's face turned pale as she pointed toward the nearby office. "Ethan, it seems we still have some paperwork left to finish..."

Ethan had no choice but to agree and didn't hesitate to scold me while I was down.

"If only you were as obedient and understanding as Sophie."

I'm terminally ill, and my husband of many years is busy transferring our marital assets to a gambling scam artist.

In a way, I'm relieved that I woke up to the reality early on.

Just an hour before Ethan and Sophie made their move, I had finalized all the asset documentation at the office.

I returned home, struggling with my illness, only to find a new message from Sophie in the community group.

Nine photos, each one a snapshot of her and Ethan together, captioned, "Ethan says that to love someone means spending lots of money on them."

The comments below were filled with congratulations and flattery from other residents.

Lewis wrote, "I knew there was something going on between you two!"

Martin chimed in, "After all this time and effort, you two have finally made it work."

Jean added, "So it was you two who notarized the assets that day!"

Scrolling down, I saw Ethan's insincere explanation, "First off, thanks for all your support, but let's keep this between us—don't let my wife find out or she'll make a scene."

After a long pause in the chat, Martin—Ethan's old friend—spoke up.

"It's clear you like Sophie more than Emma. Emma is just a placeholder; if you like her, go for it! Who cares what anyone else thinks?"

Martin was one of Ethan's shady friends from his younger days, known for his reckless lifestyle.

I had forced Ethan to cut ties with him long ago, but it seemed they had reconnected.

He probably still resented me for ruining his cash cow and was eager to use Ethan to get back at me.

He often used Ethan as an excuse to belittle me, not just in the community group but also whenever he saw me in person.

Previously, I had held my tongue out of respect for their friendship, but now that I had decided to divorce Ethan, I saw no reason to tolerate this anymore.

I tagged Martin in my reply: [Martin, since you're so eager to witness it, feel free to join me for my divorce proceedings.]

To expose Ethan's true nature as a scumbag, I shared my medical diagnosis along with a caption: [After being tormented by you both for so long, it's time to end this.]