I was on a business trip, but the news hit that my husband's vasectomy had gotten infected.

Shocked and in disbelief, I hightailed it back to the hospital.

The doctor didn't mince words when she saw me.

"He's barely two weeks post-op and you're already stirring up trouble? Do you realize this could sterilize him permanently?"

I was floored. Why had he gotten snipped without telling me?

And what was the doctor insinuating—was this somehow my fault?

I'd been away for a month; I hadn't laid a finger on him!

——

Entering his room, I saw Andrew in agony, his forehead slick with sweat.

Rushing to his bedside, my heart went out to him.

"What's all this about? I leave for a trip and you go get snipped? You said you didn't want kids and I agreed, but a vasectomy seems extreme, don't you think?"

I was baffled. Why would he do this behind my back?

Andrew avoided my gaze, managing a strained smile.

"I thought it would make life simpler, to spare you the worry of accidental pregnancies. I planned to have it done while you were away and figured I'd be healed by the time you returned. Sorry about the infection."

I squeezed his hand, my heart breaking for him.

"You went through all this for me, honey. I appreciate it."

Andrew tried to lighten the mood, though the strain was evident.

"It's really no biggie. Vasectomies are way safer and quicker for guys than for gals."

While we were catching up, a middle-aged female doctor entered with his medical chart.

Noticing me, she frowned, clearly not pleased.

"He's barely two weeks post-op and you're already causing a commotion? Are you aware this could render him permanently sterile?"

Her words caught me off guard, but then it dawned on me what she meant.

But I'd been on a trip for a month; I hadn't touched him!

Suddenly, it all clicked—his evasive look when I entered, his darting eyes.

Disregarding the doctor's uncomfortable implications, my heart plummeted.

Still, I steadied myself and faced the doctor.

"Just to clarify, doctor... if it wasn't me, could he... possibly do this to himself?"

The doctor looked at me like I was out of my mind.

"Seriously? He's not an idiot. Why would he risk an infection by doing that? I shouldn't have to remind you, but this wasn't a one-off thing. It's been happening repeatedly. You need to take control of your life!"

That comment shattered any illusion I had left, and my heart hit rock bottom.

Maybe the anesthesia was still in his system because Andrew soon fell asleep.

Looking at his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes, my heart twisted even more.

He had always been disciplined, never one to indulge in pleasures recklessly.

But now it seemed he had indulged, just not with me.

I kept wondering, what woman could make him disregard all caution?

And why choose a vasectomy? Claiming it was to consider my feelings felt like a cruel joke.

He had always been staunchly masculine, opposing such measures.

No way he changed his views just because I was away for a month.

I even began to suspect if my trip was orchestrated to get me out of the picture.

After all, he is the CEO, and I, as his VP, must follow his lead.

Wrapped in my doubts, I unintentionally dozed off next to the hospital bed.

Waking up, I caught Andrew already up, quietly watching me.

His face had more color now, and the dark circles were fading—rest had done him good.

Let's be real, Andrew was ridiculously handsome—chiseled features and that porcelain skin.

Plus, with his towering six-three stature, he looked slim in clothes but was surprisingly muscular underneath.

It was his height and killer looks that first drew me in.

A guy like him naturally turning heads isn't exactly a shocker.

Yet, through our three years of marriage, he seemed loyal. I'd never spotted another woman around him.

Could it be he was just that good at keeping secrets, and I'd been oblivious all along?

"Sleeping hunched over all night must've been tough. Sorry about that," he remarked.

Snapping back to reality, I managed a smile.

"It's all good. Feeling hungry? What can I grab you to eat?"

Andrew clasped my hand, his gaze deep and seemingly sincere.

"Not hungry. Just a glass of water, please. Thirsty here."

His earnest look almost made me doubt my suspicions.

Had I misread his look when I entered the ward yesterday?

I gave him the water and sat beside him in silence, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

Rising, I tidied up the clothes he had changed out of when he was admitted.

Digging through his suit jacket, my hand shook as I found a tube of Dior lipstick.

When I turned my questioning gaze on Andrew, he just smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"That lipstick? Oh, Tasha—my secretary—was touching up her makeup yesterday, stuck it in my pocket, and forgot to take it."

I didn't comment, just placed the lipstick back in the pocket.

"I'll head home and grab some fresh clothes for you, whip up something to eat too."

At home, a surprise awaited in the bathroom: a perfume bottle that wasn't mine.

Connecting the dots, I called Andrew's sister, Penny.

"Hey, Penny, you left your Coco Mademoiselle at our place?"

Penny sounded genuinely puzzled.

"Nope, that's not mine. I haven't been to your place in a while. I'm actually on a trip with some classmates."

My heart tightened—someone else had been in my home.

Staring numbly into the fridge, I found slices of rich cream cake.

That's something I'd never eat. A wave of anger washed over me.

I grabbed some frozen fish and hurriedly made sour fish soup, then rushed back to the hospital.

Entering Andrew's room, the strong scent of Coco Mademoiselle hit me.

I knew it couldn't be from the staff—the hospital strictly forbids perfume during shifts.

I set the food tray down and casually dropped a question, "Anyone come by to see you? It's pretty perfumed in here."

Andrew hesitated for a split second before replying smoothly, "No, must be drifting in from outside. Ask the nurse."

A nearby nurse, sorting through medication, quickly added, "Nope, just you visiting."

I scrutinized Andrew's composed face, trying to find a crack.

Was I really just being paranoid? Was this all in my head?

Could the perfume and the cake in our fridge actually belong to his secretary, Tasha?

Tasha Becky, the same age as Penny, was known for her vibrant personality, which Andrew once claimed to dislike.

I never suspected she might be involved with Andrew.

And as far as I knew, she's had a steady boyfriend since college, after all.

My head spun with confusion—was I being overly paranoid?

Shaking off my doubts, I hurried toward the hospital restroom, but passing another room, a familiar scent stopped me.

Coco Mademoiselle—the same perfume I loved back in college. So I was so familiar with it.

Driven by curiosity, I glanced inside. A nurse was tending to a young female patient.

As the nurse disposed of some medical waste, I casually asked, "What's her situation?"

"Threatened miscarriage," the nurse explained, sighing. "Two months pregnant, couldn't keep away from her boyfriend... these young folks today..."

The nurse walked off, leaving me with a nagging sense of familiarity with the young woman.

Just as I leaned in for a better look, a doctor came by and closed the door.

A gut feeling told me this woman had some connection to Andrew!

I never saw it coming. After three happy years of marriage to Andrew, everything seemed perfect until my business trip flipped our life upside down.

His sudden decision to get a vasectomy threw us into chaos.

Remembering how my dad disapproved of Andrew because he came from a small farm town, I fought back then. I broke ties with my dad and eloped with Andrew to another city.

He had knelt before me in that tiny rental, promising undying love.

His sincerity brought me to tears, and I ditched my privileged life to build something new with him.

He was always good to me after we got married, and soon we bought our first home together.

But I never imagined he could betray me.

That evening, Andrew held my hand tenderly, looking concerned.

"The doctor says the infection's managed. I should be out in a couple of days. You've done so much; don't stay overnight anymore, go home and rest," he said.

I nodded in agreement.

"Okay, just ring me if you need anything at all."

Leaving the hospital, I dug out an old white lab coat and surgical cap from my college cosplay days. Masked, I slipped back into the hospital under the cover of night.

I was driven by a nagging suspicion that Andrew might do something behind my back, and I'd find evidence myself.

Around 8 PM, I spotted an elderly couple sneaking into the hospital with a stash of health supplements.

It had been a while, but I instantly recognized them as Richard and Margaret, Andrew's parents from back home.

I followed them from a distance and watched them first stopped by Andrew's room.

And then all three of them headed to the young woman's room together. I crept up to the door to listen.

Without thinking, I started recording on my phone.

I caught Margaret, my mother-in-law, bursting with excitement.

"Andrew! You're going to make me a grandma! Why did you wait until now to tell me such wonderful news?"

"Mom, keep it down. If Ivy hears us, it'll blow up in our faces," Andrew whispered urgently.

I heard Richard grunt dismissively.

"That barren hen—three years and no kids. I say, ditch her when the baby comes!"

"Right, Andrew. Now that Mia's expecting, why stick with Ivy Chapman? Divorce her and marry Mia!"

Their words floored me. So, Mia was the woman in the middle of all this.

My heart shattered realizing the truth—my devoted husband had been seeing Mia behind my back.

Even worse, Andrew had convinced his parents I was the one who couldn't have kids.

Then Andrew spoke again, his voice calculated.

"We need to play this smart. My business still relies on Chapman's backing. Let's wait till the baby's born; my company should be stable enough by then to handle the fallout of a divorce."

Margaret sighed heavily.

"I know you felt trapped into marrying Ivy, but Mia has waited patiently. You can't let her down now."

Mia then spoke up softly, reassuringly.

"Aunt Margaret, don't worry. Andrew has always cared for me. Right after finding out I was pregnant, he got that vasectomy as a promise to me—that there'd be no chance of Ivy getting pregnant. I trust him completely."

It all clicked—Andrew didn't want children; he just didn't want them with me.

His vasectomy wasn't about us or my peace of mind; it was a pledge to Mia that in his heart, she was the only one meant to bear his children.

Margaret continued to fuss over Mia with a list of prenatal care tips before they hurriedly left.

I stepped back, shaken, as Andrew returned alone to Mia's room.

They embraced and kissed passionately.

"Baby, I've missed you so much, I'm barely holding on!"

Andrew was shaking, his voice quivering with emotion, like a dog in heat.

Mia playfully scolded him, "Careful, love, or you'll tear your stitches and we'll lose our little one!"

Andrew reluctantly stopped, and they continued whispering and laughing together, their voices echoing through the hall.

Sickened by their laughter, I stumbled out of the hospital, tears streaming down my face.

Mia Brooks had been a junior college student Andrew sponsored three years ago.

She was a local girl we met at our wedding reception in his hometown, living next door to their parents.

He had told me her tragic story that her parents died in a car crash when she was a teenager.

His parents had taken her in yet unable to afford college, so Andrew and I decided to help her.

With our income, not meager back then, it was easy to support her.

I thought sponsoring her meant just tuition and a monthly allowance.

Andrew had been sorting these things out for the past three years. Little did I know, their relationship had deepened secretly.

Now here she was, pregnant before graduation and already looking to take my place as Mrs. Wright, all while I was none the wiser.

For three years, that man I married made a fool out of me—three years of lies and betrayal!