Prologue:

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my great-grandmother came to me in a dream.

In that dream, she tapped me on the head with her cane, her face full of frustration.

“You fool. Your wife is cheating on you, and you still haven’t noticed.”

“Her lover—you’ll see him the moment you open your eyes.”

Half-believing, I opened my eyes and saw three men sitting in front of me.

One was my childhood friend, Daniel Brooks.

Another was Jason Walker, the college student Sophia and I had been sponsoring.

The last was Michael Harris, Sophia’s personal assistant.

My eyes swept across the three of them, doubt creeping into my chest.

So, which one of them was Sophia having an affair with?

When they saw me awake, all three exhaled in relief.

Daniel spoke first, his tone helpless.

“Ethan, could you maybe do something about Sophia? She called me at two in the morning, panicked that you were in terrible stomach pain, and begged me to come take care of you. If I hadn’t stopped her, she would’ve called 911.”

My heart softened immediately.

Ever since I started dating Sophia, every time I was hurt or sick, she worried more than if it were her own pain.

Last night my stomach had been unbearable. I’d only managed to sleep after taking two painkillers.

Sophia was on a business trip out of town, probably unable to reach me, so she had asked them to check in.

Michael chuckled, teasing as usual.

“See? Sophia still worries about you way too much. After all these years, you two are still acting like newlyweds. Makes people jealous.”

His tone carried the same light humor he always had.

I looked at him, uncertain.

Michael was six years older than Sophia and me. His daughter was already in elementary school.

He had a stable family, a calm personality, and was highly competent.

He’d been Sophia’s assistant for years.

In my mind, he was more like an older brother—I couldn’t imagine anything happening between them.

Just then, Mark Thompson, our butler, came in with a steaming bowl of homemade soup. His tone was filled with admiration.

“Mrs. Carter really takes good care of you, sir.”

I glanced carefully at Daniel, but his expression was normal—no jealousy, nothing unusual.

Jason, on the other hand, looked nervous. When Mark brought in the soup, he handed me a small box of dried fruit.

The moment I looked at him, Jason quickly lowered his head, avoiding my gaze. His voice was soft, uneasy.

“Ethan, this is an old remedy from our small town. It’s supposed to help with stomach problems, though it tastes bitter.”

A warmth stirred in my chest. I quickly thanked him.

“Jason, thank you. If this can ease the pain even a little, it’ll be a huge help.”

But as I spoke, I couldn’t help watching him.

His head was bowed, his fingers fidgeting at the frayed edges of his worn-out shirt. The fabric had faded, the cuffs coming apart.

He was in his early twenties, yet dressed poorer than Mark’s teenage son.

To ease the awkwardness, I made my tone deliberately light.

“To thank you for bringing this remedy, let’s go to the mall this afternoon. I’ll help you pick out a few proper outfits.”

Jason’s head shot up, his cheeks instantly flushing red.

“Ethan, no, really… I’m fine in these.”

I laughed and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t be silly. You’re the student Sophia and I sponsor. You should look the part of a college kid. If anyone saw you like this, they’d think we’ve been neglecting you.”

Jason’s lips trembled into a faint smile, his eyes bright, though he only gave a small nod.

Beside him, Daniel yawned, grinning.

“Alright then, Ethan. Take him shopping this afternoon. And while you’re at it, get me a new watch. Sophia promised she’d replace my old one with a limited edition.”

His voice was half-teasing, half-serious.

I smiled back and played along.

“Sure. I’ll get you one too.”

Then I let my gaze sweep across the three men, one by one.

These were the people closest to me, the ones I trusted most.

Daniel, my brother-like childhood friend. Jason, the student Sophia and I had been sponsoring. Michael, the capable assistant who had been with her for years.

Together, they had witnessed all thirteen years of my relationship with Sophia.

And yet, an inexplicable heaviness settled in my chest.

I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to doubt.

But my great-grandmother’s words echoed in my mind—I knew her lover had to be one of them.

Even in the dream, when she said Sophia was unfaithful, my first instinct had been denial.

I met Sophia when I was eighteen.

Back then, she had nothing but sheer determination.

She once told me, “The beginning will be hard, but when I finally succeed, I’ll make sure you live better than anyone else.”

Without hesitation, I had taken her hand.

From selling at flea markets to running a tiny shop, from countless failures to finally building our first company—we went through it all together.

In the worst of times, when our merchandise was stolen and I chased the thieves alone, I was stabbed seven times.

What warmed me most was that Sophia had never broken her promise. For ten years straight, she loved me fiercely.

In our second year of marriage, we were in a car accident.

In that split second, she shielded me with her own body, taking the full force of the crash and passing out.

Even as she lost consciousness, she managed a weak smile and whispered, “Ethan, don’t be afraid. I love you.”

How could I believe that someone like her would ever betray me?

Back then, I laughed and told my great-grandmother,

“Stop joking. The most important thing in marriage is trust. And I trust Sophia.”

She snorted, puffing on her pipe.

“You’re still too young. There isn’t a soul on this earth who doesn’t stray. I’ve sent you three dreams before, saved your life three times—and still you don’t believe me?”

Her words stuck in my chest like a lump I couldn’t swallow.

Every dream she had sent me in the past had turned out to be true.

And lately, Sophia had been acting differently.

She had worn her wedding ring for six years straight. But recently she took it off, saying she’d sent it to the jeweler for maintenance.

Another time, I sat in her car and noticed potato chip crumbs in the passenger seat.

Sophia was a clean freak—she’d never allow anyone to eat in her car.

She explained then, “Michael borrowed my car to pick up his kid the other day. Must’ve been her who dropped the crumbs.”

At the time, I trusted her completely and thought nothing of it.

But now, looking back, each detail seemed wrong.

I swallowed my suspicions, pretending to speak casually.

“By the way, Michael, isn’t it about time to pick your kid up from school?”

Michael blinked, then smiled.

“Oh, no. Last year I transferred her to Lincoln High School. It’s right next to our place, just a five-minute walk. Haven’t needed to drive her in ages.”

He said it easily, his expression calm.

My heart sank, my fingers clenching the blanket.

Lincoln High? Transferred last year?

But Sophia had told me Michael’s kid had been eating chips in her car.

A chill shot up from the soles of my feet, freezing my breath.

I forced a smile and nodded.

“Convenient, then. That’s good.”

My voice was steady, but inside I was in turmoil.

The dream had been real.

Sophia really was cheating.

The next day, Sophia came home.

She rushed to my bedside, her voice full of concern.

“Ethan, are you feeling better? The doctor said your body’s still weak—you need to take good care of yourself.”

She set down several shopping bags filled with my favorite fruits and supplements, and a limited-edition tie.

“You looked at it a couple of times at the mall. I remembered and went to buy it for you today.”

My heart trembled.

She was still the same as before—thoughtful, attentive, remembering every little thing I liked.

That night, she cooked dinner herself, making my favorite chicken soup, fussing over me to stay off my phone and get some rest.

But my chest was a storm.

Later, while she showered, she left her phone on the nightstand.

I stared at it, my pulse pounding in my throat.

At last, I reached for it.

The password was still my birthday.

The screen lit up—her wallpaper was a photo of us at the beach. She was leaning against me, smiling wide, her eyes so soft they could melt anyone.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled through her WhatsApp.

No secrets. No flirty messages. Everything was clean.

Even her Amazon and Walmart orders were all for me.

My suspicions nearly dissolved—until I opened TikTok.

In her messages, there was one chat that stood out: “No Onions No Ginger.”

I clicked.

Message after message filled the screen.

“Baby, I miss you.”

“Don’t let him touch you tonight. I want you pure for me.”

Each word pierced my eyes like a blade.

What stunned me even more was Sophia’s tone. She was always so reserved with everyone else, cold as ice.

But with him, she was patient, gentle, almost doting.

“Don’t worry. I’m keeping myself just for you.”

“You were incredible last night. I’m still aching for you now.”

Her words were dripping with affection, indulgent like she was coaxing a spoiled boy.

My hand froze on the screen, my chest suffocating with pain.

I opened his TikTok profile.

All his posts were ordinary, yet filled with subtle signs of intimacy.

A blurry photo of a woman’s back—the necklace she wore identical to Sophia’s.

A late-night video showing two bowls on a table, captioned: “Thanks, babe, for the midnight snack.”

And the latest post—a delicate hand fastening a tie clip.

The caption read:

“The luckiest thing in my life was meeting you.”

Cold sweat drenched my palms.

The woman everyone praised as “the perfect wife,” gentle and restrained with me, distant with outsiders—had given all her unrestrained passion and love to another man.