"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but this card has been declined." I was slightly stunned but quickly pulled out another card. The red light on the terminal blinked again. "Sorry, this card is also invalid." "...What?" I steadied my breath and dialed my husband's number. "Honey, hasn't your paycheck come in yet? The baby's out of formula." There was not a trace of warmth on the other end: "This family isn't supported by me alone. I hope you can be independent, not a parasite living off others." That single sentence marked the beginning of his war. Very well. Then let the hunt begin. 1 "Ma'am, do you still want this formula?" The cashier's tone was impatient. I snapped back to reality, realizing a long line had formed behind me. "I'm sorry... I don't want it for now." Pushing the empty cart out of the supermarket, I called my mother-in-law. The phone rang over ten times before being picked up, with the fierce sound of Mahjong tiles in the background. "Spit it out if you have something to say, I'm on a winning streak!" I took a deep breath, every word incredibly difficult: "Mom, Caleb's company... his salary is delayed this month. Do you think you could watch Mia for a couple of days so I can find some temp work?" "No way!" I was cut off before I could finish. "I've done my duty raising Caleb! Spare me the moral kidnapping. If you need money, ask your own family. Didn't I give you a $10,000 bride price? Make your family spit it out!" The phone was hung up abruptly. A sourness rushed up my nose. When did they change? Probably a year ago, when my daughter fell seriously ill. Besides the bride price and dowry, even my pre-marital savings were poured into it. Caleb was on a business trip at the time. He promised solemnly over the phone: "Wifey, my money is tied up in wealth management. You figure out a way to cover it first. Once it matures, I'll definitely pay you back." From that day on, my mother-in-law looked at my daughter with nothing but disgust: "Some children are born debt collectors, bringing bad luck just to drag the family down." And Caleb started complaining to me frequently: "Uncle's company is restructuring. Although I wasn't laid off, the economy is bad, and my salary was cut in half." "You don't work, so you don't know what it's like out there. Ask Mom and Dad to help out more. Once Uncle's business turns around, the salary will go back up, and I'll definitely compensate you double then." This wait lasted a year. Waiting for him to go from "starting a business" to "in debt." Waiting for his salary to shrink from $3,000 to $800. Waiting for my daughter and me to become "parasites" in his mouth. Finally, I called my brother. After hearing my plight, he sighed deeply. "Sis, honestly, seeing you live like this makes me sad too. Take this thousand dollars, no need to pay it back." "But I really hope this is the last time. You have to climb out of that pit yourself." Hanging up the phone, the tears finally broke the dam. It turns out when you hit rock bottom, even your shadow leaves you. Those who banged drums urging you to marry and have kids are now gathered around the pit, laughing at your wretchedness and helplessness. Their lines are always shiny: "You have to have a son to gain a foothold in your in-laws' house." "He works hard outside to make money, how can you not even take care of a child properly?" "Women must be kind and magnanimous, otherwise how can you keep a man's heart?" I wiped the tears from my face and picked up my crying daughter. Only after getting married did I understand that "I'll support you" is the biggest lie in marriage. 2 "Zoey, have you ever thought... could Caleb have someone else on the side?" My best friend Sarah's voice was hesitant. My breath hitched: "Someone else? Why doesn't she come to make a scene? Why doesn't he show his cards to me?" "Heh..." A scoff came from the other end: "I think you've watched too many soap operas. In reality, whether it's Caleb, the mistress, or even your mother-in-law, none of them are worthy of plotting against the original wife. Deliver themselves to you to catch? Do you think this is a TV show?" She paused: "Don't blame me for being direct. Maybe it's because I've seen too much at the law firm. Let me list a few facts for you to think about calmly: First, how long has he stopped giving you housekeeping money? Second, can you still unlock his phone? Third, Mia is almost two years old. Custody won't necessarily favor the mother anymore. So you don't have much time left." "Then what should I do?" My voice was tense. "Hire... a private investigator?" "Private investigator?" Sarah smiled bitterly again: "Do you have money? A legitimate and capable PI starts at six figures, and the subsequent costs are a bottomless pit. Secondly, evidence obtained by illegal means might be deemed invalid due to privacy violation. If it goes wrong, the other party might even blackmail you." A chill ran down my spine: "Then... what should I do?" "How much cash do you have right now?" "$750. Just bought a can of formula." "Okay. From this moment on, don't touch a cent of that money. Consider it your last war fund. I'll introduce my senior colleague to you. I'll help you with living expenses, but leave the professional matters to him." Sarah is my most trusted friend in this world. After graduation, she chose grad school, while I chose marriage. Five years passed. She's an intern at a top law firm, high-spirited. While I became a parasite in the daily grind of domestic life. Half an hour later, a strange number called. "Hello Ms. Jiang, my name is Lu. Time is limited, let's keep it short. At this stage, your primary task is gathering evidence." "When your husband comes home, you need to complete two tasks: First, take photos of every card in his wallet, even if it's just a car wash card. Clear photos of front and back. Second, observe carefully if he has a spare phone or other chat apps." "No matter how much you find he has squandered or hidden, stay calm until you have a complete chain of evidence." After hanging up, I sat in the living room for a long time. Even now, I was unwilling to face reality. His pay stub clearly stated $800, and he had a fixed mortgage payment of $600 every month. With such a stretched budget, how could he possibly be squandering money? Three days later, he finally came home. 3 He tossed his suitcase casually: "Pack a few summer outfits, I have to leave again next week." I smelled the unfamiliar scent he brought back and looked at him calmly: "Has this month's salary come in yet?" His hand loosening his tie paused, frowning at me: "Are you done yet? I just stepped in the door, haven't even caught my breath, and all you know is money money money?" Seeing the undisguised annoyance on his face, the question I had rolled over in my heart countless times almost burst out. Immediately, Lawyer Lu's warning flashed through my mind: "Stay calm until you have a complete chain of evidence." Seeing him put on his jacket again. I turned and brought out a bowl of rib soup from the kitchen: "Dinner is ready, want to eat a little?" His Adam's apple moved, and he finally hung the coat back up: "I told you, let the old folks cover it first. When I turn things around here, I'll pay them back every cent." "Mn, got it." I lowered my eyes and served myself a bowl: "I won't bother you about the child's matters anymore." He seemed very satisfied with this answer, picked up his chopsticks, and put the biggest rib into his own bowl. From this moment on, I defend my rights. The target is the husband who has shared my bed for five years. Sarah's hunch was right. Caleb's shrewdness and defensiveness far exceeded my imagination. His phone password was changed. I could only carefully unlock it with his fingerprint after he fell asleep. Chat history deleted clean. Contacts had no suspicious signals. Transfer records were as clean as a blank sheet of paper. Plus all the methods I learned online: Checking takeout addresses, hotel orders, shared device login records... nothing found. I leaned against the wall, looking at his sleeping profile. The child is two years old. The family's assets have long been diluted to almost nothing by his excuses of failed investments, company pay cuts, and bank repayments. The bride price, dowry, and all my pre-marital savings were squeezed dry. Five years. Over one thousand eight hundred days and nights. What is your next target? "Did you take the photos?" Just as dawn broke, Lawyer Lu's message popped up. "Taken, but he seems to be guarding against me. Not a single bank card, not even his ID is in the wallet. Can we still apply for an investigation order like this?" The reply came quickly: "Investigation order? That's not what you should be thinking about now. Tell me first, what's in the wallet." I sent all the photos from my phone: A gas card, a supermarket shopping card, several cake coupons from different brands, a credit card, nothing else. Looking at the empty card slots, that sense of powerlessness hit again. "Is it... am I out of chances?" Almost at the same time the message was sent, his reply came. No text, just a grinning emoji. Followed by two lines: "It's secure. I guarantee you win this round. But there's one thing, you have to find a way to make him come home again in a few days." "What do you mean? Is it possible he won't come home anymore?" "Very possible. Mia's birthday is in two days. If I'm not wrong, what you'll be waiting for next should be his divorce agreement." "Divorce agreement?" "Yes. I think his return this time was to collect valuable documents. Go check the property deed and such, they should be gone." My heart tightened, and I quickly opened the home safe. Sure enough. All important documents were gone. "Okay." His voice pulled me back to reality: "Next, follow every step I say. Buy back the cards you photographed on your phone exactly as they are." I took a deep breath and rushed to the gas station. Bought a $1000 gas card matching the photo. Then the mall, a $2000 shopping card. Bought the $300 stored-value card from the cake shop too. Watching the balance shrink instantly, my fingertips went cold. But I still took a deep breath and dialed Caleb's number. "Husband, tomorrow is our daughter's birthday. Should we... invite the elders to eat together?" Silence on the other end for a few seconds. "No need, Zoey." His voice was terrifyingly calm: "Let's get a divorce." 4 All the prepared words were stuck in my throat. "What did you say?" "Tomorrow, you should receive the divorce agreement sent by my lawyer. I hope we can part on good terms." "Part on good terms?" A sourness surged in my nose: "Five years of marriage, Caleb, and you tell me to part on good terms? Is there someone else?" The tone on the other end revealed impatience: "Don't talk nonsense. I just feel that being together consumes us more and more. A good relationship shouldn't be dragging each other down like this. I hope you can have some dignity." With that, he hung up. Tears blurred my vision instantly. He finally showed his cards. The illusion he maintained with mortgage pressure and career bottlenecks finally shattered. Completely, leaving me not a single bit of room for self-deception. How many hurdles does a woman have to cross in this life? Ten months of pregnancy. Labor pains. And the dignity she has to put down for a mouthful of formula money... And when you think you finally see the light through the clouds, you realize the person who should have pulled you up on the shore had already pulled away all the planks and pushed you into the abyss. I picked up my phone tremblingly and messaged Lawyer Lu: "He's not coming back. I have no chance." Less than ten seconds after the message was sent, his call came. "Calm down. In a divorce lawsuit, as long as one party disagrees, the marital relationship will not be dissolved immediately. We still have plenty of room to maneuver. What you need to do most right now is not resist, but play the role of an emotionally stable wife trying to save her husband. As long as you don't panic, we have a chance to win this battle." The next day, the courier delivered the "Divorce Agreement" sent by Caleb's lawyer. I opened the document, and my vision went black. He even gave up custody of the child. Only at this moment did I truly understand. He was waiting for this divorce node. As for child support... $150 a month. He even provided several bank statements. Proving that he had no assets available for division under his name. I froze in place, tremblingly took photos of these pages, and sent them to Lu. "Is there still a chance of winning?" His reply was fast: "Of course. You are still living in his house. As long as you don't leave, he can't cut ties completely. So, no response, no arguing. Live normally as if nothing happened, until he can't hold back and comes home to find you, our chance will come." Sure enough, a week later, after refusing all his calls and urging texts, he finally came back. The sound of the key turning the lock rang out. I took a deep breath, and like thousands of times in the past, naturally took his coat: "I stewed your favorite yam and rib soup. Wash your hands and eat first." He didn't move, his eyes sweeping over me coldly: "Jiang Yao (Zoey), must you make a big scene and embarrass everyone?" I looked at him, my voice without a ripple: "If making a big scene could get you what you want, you wouldn't waste half a sentence. Caleb, I don't care what you have outside, but this is mine and our daughter's home. We will always wait for you here." The man's last bit of patience on his face ran out: "I've entrusted the agent to list this house. I'm afraid you can't live here for much longer." I nodded, pulling out a dining chair: "The soup is getting cold. We mother and daughter aren't picky. Just rent us a suitable apartment." Caleb's sharp gaze swept back and forth on my face. It's true. In the past, hearing the words "sell the house," I would have been hysterical long ago. But not now. I have something more important than emotions at hand. While he turned to go to the bathroom, my fingers deftly reached into his pocket. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, but my movements were surprisingly steady. The whole process took less than ten seconds. The wallet was silently stuffed back into its original place. "Pack up tonight." He pulled out a chair: "I'll find you a place to stay tomorrow." "Okay." I didn't look at him, bowing my head to scoop a small spoonful of soup for my daughter. The whole meal, no more words were exchanged. My mission was complete. The hunting time officially began.
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