In the fifth year of our marriage, I worked day and night without rest to pay off the debt my wife incurred from a failed investment and to treat our son's illness.

I carried bricks on construction sites, ran deliveries and even sold a kidney on the black market.

Just off the operating table at a shady clinic, I rushed to work at the car wash.

My coworker clicked his tongue at the Rolls-Royce. "Be extra careful with this luxury car. It's a gift from Mrs. Simmons to her fiancé. That man is really lucky. I heard that for his birthday, Mrs. Simmons gave him a villa."

I held the water gun, my eyes filled with rage, staring at the couple’s photo hanging inside the car and the liquid on the seat.

The "Mrs. Simmons" he mentioned, the woman smiling sweetly in the photo, was my bankrupt wife.

——

My son was critically ill with a congenital heart disease and the doctor urgently informed me that there was a matching heart available in the hospital.

With tears streaming down my face, I begged them to give me some time to gather the money and sign the papers.

But my bank card was with my wife.

Left with no choice, I called my wife, Raquel Simmons and asked her to bring it to the hospital.

She hung up on me ninety-nine times.

On the hundredth call, she finally answered, but what I heard was her moaning breathily, her voice filled with impatience as she scolded, “Yoshi, I’m busy looking for investors right now. Can you stop causing trouble?”

Before I could explain, she hung up again.

Utterly helpless, I clenched a small card I found on a street utility pole. It was advertising kidney selling.

Staggering out of the shady clinic, I ignored the still-bleeding wound and ran straight to the hospital.

Only after signing the surgical consent form did I finally feel a sense of relief.

My son looked at me with reddened eyes and said, “Dad, is my illness really hard to treat? Please don’t spend any more money on me…”

I gently stroked his thin little face and said softly, “Luke, don’t worry. Daddy’s already got the money. After your surgery tomorrow, you’ll be on the road to recovery!”

Thinking about my wife’s debts and the cost of post-op medication and care for my son, I gritted my teeth and went back to work at the car wash, despite the searing pain from my wound.

I earn seven dollars for each car I wash. It was enough, maybe, to buy some chicken soup tonight to nourish my wife and son.

Owners of luxury cars were usually generous.

Right before I opened the door, I was still happily thinking I might earn a little extra in tips.

But the moment I saw the crystal-studded couple photo inside the car, it felt like I’d fallen into an icy abyss.

In the photo, Raquel was wearing an elegant gown, a pricey Rolex wrapped around her wrist.

She looked nothing like the woman I remembered, barefaced, frugal to the point she wouldn’t even throw away hole-ridden socks.

Standing beside her was a handsome young man, his arm tightly around her slender waist.

It was none other than Zack Lincoln, the investor she always talked about.

My breath caught. The high-pressure water gun slipped from my hand, crashing loudly onto the ground.

With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone. My lock screen still had a photo of me and my wife, smiling.

Could Raquel possibly have a twin sister?

But that thought was quickly dismissed.

I clearly saw the small red mole beneath her earlobe in the photo inside the car.

In that instant, it was as if all the blood in my body flowed backward. I froze on the spot, unable even to muster the courage to call and confront her.

A coworker smacked me hard on the shoulder. “Yoshi, what are you spacing out for? Mrs. Simmons’s here to pick up her car!”

I pulled my mask tighter over my face and out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Raquel’s slender figure.

She was wearing a silk dress I wouldn’t even dare touch and holding an Hermès handbag I’d only ever seen on TV.

My eyes burned red as I clenched my teeth and continued washing the car.

While cleaning the back seat, I found a pair of black stockings and a few used, stained condoms wedged in the crevice.

Suppressing the pain stabbing through my chest, I tossed the trash aside.

My coworker let out a lewd chuckle and leaned in, whispering with a smirk, “Rich folks really know how to have fun. Just look at Mrs. Simmons’s killer body, she must be a real treat in bed.”

"Rich and wild in bed, her fiancé must be in heaven," my coworker snickered.

I tried my best to tune out his filthy words, but my stomach twisted with nausea and I couldn’t stop dry heaving from the pain inside.

“Raquel, I picked up Wendy from kindergarten,” said the man from the photo as he walked toward her, holding the hand of a chubby little boy.

The child laughed and threw himself into Raquel’s arms. “Raquel! Zack said we’re having a big feast tonight!”

Raquel affectionately stroked his cheek. “Yes. I’ve booked an entire cruise tonight. Play as much as you want!”

“Zack, you haven’t given me my hello kiss yet today.” She pouted.

The man chuckled and planted a kiss on her bright red lips. “Didn’t I satisfy you just last night?”

Raquel playfully smacked his chest.

Seeing that the car was now clean, she waved casually at me.

Without even sparing me a glance, she pulled out a thick wad of bills and shoved it into my hand.

I stared at the near thousand dollar tip in my palm and my limbs began to go numb.

The money Raquel tossed so casually was more than I could earn in a whole month of hard labor.

Just the way she offhandedly said she booked an entire cruise alone could have paid for my son’s heart transplant.

Seeing my stunned expression, Zack chuckled and looked me up and down, eyeing my worn-out, faded shirt.

“Hick. Took the tip and was still standing around? Don’t even know how to be grateful?”

His mocking tone made my nose sting, shame and fury swirling inside me.

Raquel glanced at me with a puzzled look. “You… how come…”

I didn’t even dare to breathe, terrified that she’d call me by name in the next second.

“There’s blood on your shirt. Disgusting. Don’t scare the kid,” she said with a frown of disgust before pulling Zack and his little nephew into the car.

I let out a bitter laugh.

The wound from selling my kidney had split open again, staining my white shirt a vivid red.

Standing next to her, Zack looked tall and striking in his crisp suit, while I stood there like a fool, filthy and pitiful, clutching the "tip" she had tossed at me like spare change.

The wife I thought had stuck with me through thick and thin after bankruptcy had turned into a CEO who could casually throw around millions.

All these years of sacrifice to her must have been nothing more than a joke.

Just then, a coworker approached, looking puzzled and handed me an envelope.

“You know that guy who just left with the car? He told me to give this to you,” my coworker said, holding out the envelope.

I frowned slightly, pressed my lips together and took it.

Finding a quiet corner in a nearby internet café, I carefully plugged the USB drive inside the envelope into the computer.

In an instant, dozens of video files popped up on the screen.

In one, Zack and Raquel sat on either side of Wendy, surrounding him with smiles as they celebrated his birthday.

A massive, multi-tiered cake stood in front of them, surrounded by all the expensive toys my son had only ever dreamed of.

In another, Raquel was attending a parent-child sports day with Zack and Wendy. She had a beaming smile on her face, so warm, so natural. It was a smile I hadn’t seen from her in years.

The three of them wore matching family outfits, looking every bit like a real family.

I stared blankly at the screen, my mind hollow and still, until the final video popped up.

Raquel lay unclothed in Zack’s arms.

Her voice was lazy and intimate. “How’s that son of yours? When do you plan on bringing him back to my family?”

Zack chuckled, his fingers idly tracing her shoulder. “I’m done testing them for five years. It’s your fault for insisting on that stupid bet in the first place.”

Raquel snorted softly. “Let’s wait till next year to bring them back. That country bumpkin’s kid still needs a heart transplant. If we take them now, he’ll definitely come crawling for my family’s money and power.”

My hands trembled on the mouse and my vision blurred.

The truth I had once refused to believe now cut deeper than any knife.

From the way Raquel spoke, it was as if our son wasn’t even her own flesh and blood.

She kept calling him that country bumpkin’s kid. Each word pierced through me like a blade, cutting deep into my heart and gut.

She knew.

She knew our son was sick, hanging by a thread, waiting for a miracle.

She had the means. She could’ve found the best medical team, paid for the surgery, even secured a matching heart.

But instead… she chose to stand by coldly, watching me sell my body for scraps, watching our son waste away in pain.

And to think, we first met in a welfare home.

I was an orphan. Even after growing up, I often returned to the orphanage to visit the head and the kids.

That’s where I first saw Raquel. She was volunteering.

She told me that she had no parents too and just wanted to do her part to make life a little better for the children.

We got to know each other, fell in love and eventually walked down the aisle.

Later, I offended a powerful figure in the industry for refusing to play along with hidden rules.

I was blacklisted and I could only survive on odd jobs from then on.

Back then, Raquel stayed by my side through the hardest days and was never uttering a word of complaint.

Then came the year our child was born. She suffered a failed investment and fell deep into debt.

I sold the apartment I had bought with years of savings to help pay off what she owed and moved us into a rundown shack on the outskirts. The walls were full of holes, wind leaking through every corner.

She hugged me tight with tears in her eyes, swearing she'd treat me and our son well for the rest of her life.

But she broke that promise.

Because of the cruel game played by her and Zack, my son and I became nothing more than their entertainment.

I let out a silent scream, a bitter taste rising in my throat.

Wiping away the tears that had unknowingly fallen, I forced a smile and walked into my son’s hospital room.

“Luke, Daddy bought you some chicken soup. Are you still feeling unwell?”

My son’s pale little face showed a kind of grown-up helplessness.

“Daddy, I have surgery tomorrow. I’m not allowed to eat today.”

I froze for a moment, my mind was still muddled from the shock Raquel had given me today.

I pounded my head in frustration and gently moistened my son’s parched lips with a cotton swab.

He held my hand sensibly and asked, “Daddy, is Mommy still busy looking for a job? I miss her.”

Looking at how mature he was for his age, I swallowed the truth that was on the tip of my tongue.

I gently stroked his head, my heart aching. “You’ll definitely see Mommy before your surgery tomorrow.”

Even if I had to get down on my knees and beg Raquel, I would make sure she came to see her son.

After five years of being the clown in their rich-people’s game, my dignity and pride seem meaningless now.

Watching my son’s sleeping face, I went to confirm tomorrow’s surgery time with the doctor.

I squatted in the hallway, my back pressed against the cold wall. I finally felt a little clearer in the head.

Taking out my phone, I dialed Raquel’s number.

This time, she picked up quickly.

“Yoshi, what’s wrong? I’m accompanying some investors at a dinner right now. If this project goes through, we won’t have to live such a hard life anymore!”

For the past five years, she’s always used similar lines to deceive and brush me off.

And I would always foolishly believe her.

At first, Raquel even pretended to take on a cleaning job.

I looked at her blistered, swollen hands and told her to focus on finding investors for her project, while I'd take care of earning money.

But instead, she spent her days fooling around outside, leaving my son and me to suffer.

Hearing the unmistakable sounds of music on her end of the call, she was probably still partying on the yacht with Zack’s nephew.

I fought back the grief and bitterness surging in my chest, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Raquel, our son’s surgery is tomorrow. Can you come to be with him? You know how much he looks up to you…”

Before I could finish, Raquel cut me off coldly.

“Yoshi, what’s wrong with you lately? You know how busy I am, yet you keep bothering me! I’m working so hard to get investment so you two can have a better life!”

Hearing her lash out in frustration, a wave of bitterness rose in my chest. I paused for a few seconds, then said softly, “Raquel, maybe in your eyes I’m just a foolish country bumpkin… but don’t you care at all about the son you carried for ten months?”

Raquel fell silent, caught off guard. After a moment, her voice came through, flustered. “Yoshi, what nonsense are you talking about? I’ll finish things here as soon as I can and head to the hospital.”