My credit card was stolen.

I called the police.

I was sitting at the police station, halfway through giving a statement.

I saw my husband, who was supposed to be away on a business trip, and his first love, blushing, following close behind him.

“Claire Mitchell, are you wasting police resources like this?”

My husband slammed the letter of apology on the table: “Sign it now! I don’t have time to argue with you.”

I looked at the amount displayed on the letter of apology—three years’ salary for my husband—and smiled.

“You want me to sign it?”

“Sure,” I said, meeting the determined faces of my husband and his first love, and holding up the letter of apology: “Kneel down and admit your mistake.”

“Bow to me.”

——

“One step missing.”

My voice grew colder. “No need to discuss this.”

The lawyer who came with me immediately spoke up: “According to Article 196 of the United States Criminal Code, using someone else’s credit card to steal money for an amount exceeding $1,000 constitutes a crime—”

“Enough!”

Michael Reynolds rudely interrupted the lawyer, turning to glare at me fiercely: “Claire! We’re husband and wife, so don’t make things so awkward. If you really go too far, I won’t be the one to regret it!”

Michael Reynolds’s first love burst into tears.

“Claire, I know you resent Michael and me for being together for three years, and I know my presence makes you uncomfortable, but you have to be reasonable. Michael and I were together first, and we knew each other first. You can’t force Michael to cut off all contact with me just because you married him.”

Samantha Hayes’s voice was choked with sobs, but sharp. “My son’s starting first grade, and I don’t have an apartment in the right school district, so I asked Michael for help! Do you really think I’m willing to use your credit card?”

“Do you think I can just use your credit card without guilt? I feel terrible every time I do!” Samantha Hayes looked at me with red eyes. “I followed Michael to the police station! Do you even know where I am?”

“I’ll have to re-enroll my son! Now the whole school knows I stole credit cards! Are you happy?”

Samantha Hayes shouted the last few words, then threw herself into Michael Reynolds’s arms. Michael gently patted her back and soothed her.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m here.”

“I won’t let anyone get in your way while I’m here,” Michael said, even as he tried to calm her. “Claire, do you see how much you’ve pushed someone as fragile as Samantha into this!”

“I suggest you sign this quickly and go tell Samantha this was all a misunderstanding! Otherwise, how will Samantha and her son live their lives?”

I looked at Michael’s confident face. I remember when I first learned my credit card had been stolen, I wondered if something had happened to Michael.

After all, Michael hadn’t been home in a while, constantly claiming he was away on a project. Even on our anniversary, he had only said a cold, “Happy anniversary, honey.”

No gift.

No greetings.

He’d disappeared the entire day.

Now, as I watched Michael standing before me, defending someone else, I realized my worries were unnecessary. So, why should I bother saving Michael’s face? I walked up to Michael, grabbed Samantha Hayes’s hair, and slapped her hard.

Amidst Samantha’s screams, I raised my hand again, slapped Michael across the face, and said, “Now, I have more to deal with than just the credit card fraud.”

I turned and looked at the lawyer. “I’m suing. My husband might be committing bigamy, keeping another family outside my home, and even having an illegitimate child.”

“As for the credit card fraud,” I sneered. “Since they won’t admit their guilt, let’s just follow the rules and procedures.”

The lawyer wrote down all my claims as I requested and was about to go negotiate with the police, but was stopped by Michael Reynolds.

“Claire!”

Michael stopped the lawyer, his eyes fixed on me. “Are you crazy? Bigamy and illegitimate child! Do you know how much harm you’re doing to Samantha and me?”

“And you,” Michael glared at the lawyer with disgust. “How much money did Claire give you to work for her?”

“Do you know I’m her husband? Every penny she spends is our joint property! You’re naive to sue me with my money!”

Samantha Hayes also joined Michael in pushing the lawyer. “What gives you the right to sue me?”

“I’m also going to sue Claire for assault!” Samantha covered half her face and stared at me. “Don’t blame Michael for not liking you! You’ve always been so strong, no man would like you like that!”

“You deserve to be lonely forever!”

I listened to Samantha’s comments and glanced at Michael, who clearly had a flicker of guilt. What else could I not understand?

Out of my sight.

So that’s how Michael described me.

In that case, why should I be so hard on myself? I smiled at Samantha, then looked back at Michael and nodded earnestly.

“You’re quite right.”

Michael, thinking Samantha had convinced me, was about to say, “You—”

But I interrupted him.

“After all, I’m not like you,” I said, changing the subject. “I’m not the kind of person who wouldn’t bother picking up morals lying on the ground.”

I pointed at my face. “Since you’re going to sue, whatever!”

“But for now,” I laughed, “enjoy the fifteen days of detention and the compensation.”

After all.

I bought a house to support Samantha’s son’s education.

If he really had to pay it back, Michael would be half dead. I left the police station and got into Ethan Brooks’s car. The music in the car happened to be playing Kelly Clarkson’s Since U Been Gone. Kelly sang, “Thanks to you, now I get what I want, since you been gone.”

Ethan handed me a green cap and asked me.

“Do you still like it?”

I looked at the green cap in my arms and laughed angrily. I slapped Ethan on the head: “If you don’t want to die, drive.”

I sat in the two-bedroom apartment Michael had bought for Samantha.

Looking inside.

The layout was cozy. A family photo hung in the living room. It showed Michael hugging Samantha, with their child. The child was still in school at this age and probably didn’t know his parents were in police custody. I looked at the bills in the living room and saw the money Michael had spent on Samantha over the years. From small amounts like one to a hundred dollars.

From large amounts like thousands, tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands.

It was a significant amount.

I remembered that for three years after we got married, Michael and I had been apart for so long, always using the phrase:

“I hope to become a better match for you.”

It silenced all my dissatisfaction with our lukewarm relationship. Then, I saw a USB drive in the drawer of the TV cabinet. It read, in bold, bold letters: [Michael Reynolds x Samantha Hayes].

I inserted the USB drive into the projector and saw that the timeline was last year.

Thanksgiving.

My parents and I sat in the old house, waiting for Michael all day. Finally, he arrived, carrying pumpkin pie, apologizing for being too busy and hoping our family wouldn’t be angry.

Now, looking at the contents projected on the USB drive, I feel like I’m sinking into an icy cave.

In the video.

Michael Reynolds knelt before Samantha Hayes, holding flowers in his hands. With tears in his eyes, he said, “What I didn’t give you back then, I’ll give you today.”

“This house is the best proof of my love for you.”

The background was this house, surrounded by Michael’s family.

Everyone was saying, “Michael finally saw the light after waiting for the clouds to clear.”

“That’s right.”

“Michael has been living with that woman for the past few years, trying to give Samantha a home. It’s been tough on Michael.”

“Samantha is so lucky to be loved by Michael this much. Even if Michael doesn’t love that woman, he’s willing to stay by someone else’s bedside just for you, just for the money.”

Samantha’s eyes were red with tears, and she nodded her consent.

Then, a passionate kiss that moved the entire audience ended with the children cheering along.

I seemed to finally understand why, even when Michael and I were deeply in love, he always restrained himself. Even when I asked if we wanted a child, his expression was indifferent. “Claire.”

“We’re still young, and there’s plenty of time to think about children. But your family is large and wealthy, and I don’t want to be a live-in son-in-law forever. I also want others to talk about me and make you proud.”

Michael on Thanksgiving.

I was wearing an unfamiliar perfume. It wasn’t that I was insensitive, but Michael explained, “It’s just the client’s wife. If you don’t like it, I won’t take this order.”

Michael was too good at disguise, too protective of Samantha.

Even though I knew Samantha existed, he only told me, “If it weren’t for Samantha, I wouldn’t know how to love.”

“They say that growing up with a man allows the earlier love to gain the upper hand. I didn’t think so before.”

Michael hugged me.

“Now, I’m so grateful to my ex. Otherwise, how could I have cherished such a wonderful wife?”

It was all a trap.

It was all intentional.

My fingertips felt cold, and even in the summer heat, I felt shivering all over. Ethan Brooks, who was sitting next to me, remained silent, but after the video ended, he patted my shoulder. I instinctively reacted, pushing Ethan away and vomiting profusely in the toilet. Just as I turned to grab some paper, I realized they were using the same brand of toilet paper as me. I remembered someone asking Michael at the end of the video.

“Will Claire really not notice?”

“She’s so sensitive and suspicious.”

Michael, however, was completely confident.

“I’ve taken care of everything. She won’t be able to find any flaws.”

Even the toilet paper, toiletries, pillowcases, dishes, and kitchenware were all identical. The skincare and perfume on the dresser were the same. It was so detailed that it felt like Michael was actually dating, marrying, and living with the same person.

No wonder I hadn’t noticed. I thought, Samantha from the police station has the same hair color as me. Exactly the same.

So identical, a chill ran down my back, but a soft coat draped over me.

“Have you figured out what to do?”

I turned, meeting Ethan’s rare, concerned face, and forced a smile. “Of course.”

My mother always said, if you’re hit, you should hit back, and if you’re bullied, you should make the other person feel even worse.

I was taught not to swallow your anger, but to fight violence with violence.

I took the property deed to this house and listed it online, offering it for sale at 70% below market price. I had only one requirement:

The buyer had to be aggressive and ruthless.

Then, I had Ethan use his identity to exert pressure. After thoroughly investigating the matter of Samantha’s son’s schooling, I had hair samples from Michael and Samantha’s son prepared for a paternity test.