For eight days, I lay in a hospital bed, alone. For eight days, my husband lay in my best friend’s bed, tangled in her sheets. On the eighth day, I was finally discharged. As I walked out of the hospital entrance, I saw him. My husband, Caleb. He was standing across the street, outside the mall, holding another woman's hand. That woman was my best friend of ten years, Chloe. They were laughing, chatting, holding shopping bags. I stood there, frozen, watching them for three full minutes. They never saw me. 1 "Babe, I have to go on a business trip. Probably a week." That was eight days ago. Caleb’s last words to me. That same day, I found out I was two months pregnant. I hadn't even had the chance to tell him. I thought I’d surprise him when he got back. The surprise never came. What came instead was bleeding that wouldn't stop. At 3:00 AM, I took an Uber to the ER alone. "Caleb, I'm bleeding. Where are you?" Silence on the other end for two seconds. "I'm out of town, didn't I tell you? Just go to the hospital." "Can you come back? I'm scared." "I... I'm in the middle of negotiations, I really can't leave. Don't worry, it's probably just something you ate." I hung up. Alone to register. Alone to wait in line. Alone for the exam. The doctor's face was grim. "Threatened miscarriage. It doesn't look good. We recommend admitting you for observation." I signed the papers. The room was a double. The woman in the next bed was heavily pregnant. Her husband brought breakfast every morning, soup at lunch, and stayed every night. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I texted Caleb: "I'm hospitalized. Threatened miscarriage." He replied: "What? Is it serious? Drink plenty of water, rest well. I'll come see you as soon as I'm done." I waited. Day one, he didn't come. Day two, he didn't come. I called again. "Caleb, when can you come back?" "Soon, soon. This project is tricky. Just two more days." Day three. The woman next to me went for a checkup, her husband by her side the whole time. When they came back, he was showing her ultrasound photos on his phone. "Look, honey, the baby is kicking." She smiled so sweetly. I turned my head, staring out the window. My baby never waited for his father to come see him. Day four. Early morning, I woke up in agonizing pain. The nurse hit the call button. The doctor rushed in. "It's bad. We need to operate immediately." I grabbed the nurse's hand. "My husband..." "Have you contacted family? We need a signature for the surgery." My phone rang. It was Caleb. "What's wrong? Calling in the middle of the night." "I need surgery. Can you come sign the papers?" "What? What surgery?" "Miscarriage." Silence on the other end. "I... I really can't make it back in time. Can you ask the hospital if there's another way? Or can you sign it yourself?" "Sign it myself?" "Yeah, talk to the doctor, it should be fine, right?" I didn't speak. The nurse looked at me, her expression complicated. In the end, I signed it myself. Before the surgery, the nurse asked, "Family?" I said, "Business trip." She sighed and didn't ask again. The surgery was quick. When I woke up, the room was empty. The woman next to me had been discharged. Before leaving, her husband draped a jacket over her shoulders. "Careful, walk slowly." I lay there, watching them walk away. My phone rang. Caleb. "How was the surgery? You okay?" "It went fine." "That's good. Rest well, I'll try to get back in a couple of days." I said okay. After hanging up, I realized my pillow was soaked. Day five. Day six. Day seven. He didn't come. He barely even called. Occasionally a text: "Busy today, talk later." I didn't want to fight. I didn't have the energy. My body was weak. The nurse said to rest, avoid drafts, avoid cold food. I ordered takeout alone, went for checkups alone, signed my discharge papers alone. Day eight. I was discharged. Standing at the hospital entrance, I called Caleb. "I'm out." "Oh, out already? Go home first, I should be back this afternoon." "Where are you?" "Still out of town, wrapping things up." "Oh." I hung up. And then I saw him. Right across the street, at the mall entrance. He was wearing the blue shirt I bought him. Next to him was Chloe. He was holding her hand. They were laughing and talking. Chloe leaned on his shoulder, acting cute like a little girl. He whispered something in her ear, and she playfully hit him. I stood there, frozen, watching for three full minutes. They didn't see me. I turned around and hailed a cab. "Driver, nearest hotel." I didn't go home. 2 The hotel was quiet. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind replayed that scene over and over. Caleb holding Chloe's hand. Chloe leaning on his shoulder. They were shopping. And I had been lying in a hospital bed for eight days. I picked up my phone, scrolling through my chat with Chloe. The last message was from two weeks ago. She said: "Busy lately, rain check?" I said: "Okay." Chloe was my college roommate. We've known each other for ten years. Longer than I've known Caleb. She introduced me to Caleb. Back then, she said: "This guy is reliable, you should give him a shot." We dated for two years, married for one. At the wedding, Chloe was the maid of honor. She even cried, saying she couldn't bear to let me go. I held my phone, not knowing who to call. Caleb? Ask him why he lied? Chloe? Ask her when she started sleeping with my husband? I didn't call either. I was afraid I couldn't handle the answers. After lying there for a while, I got hungry. I went downstairs, bought some porridge, and sat in the lobby eating slowly. My phone rang. Caleb. "Babe, are you home?" I paused. "Yeah." "Good. My flight is tonight, should be home around nine or ten." "Okay." "Did you eat? Should I bring you something?" "No need." He sounded relaxed. "Alright, see you tonight." I hung up. Flight tonight? So where is he now? With Chloe? I didn't go looking for answers immediately. I was too tired. Body tired, heart tired. I went back to my room and slept. When I woke up, it was evening. I checked my phone. Caleb texted: "Almost there, what do you want to eat?" I didn't reply. A while later: "At the gate, open up." Still didn't reply. He called. "Babe, are you home? Why aren't you opening the door?" I said, "I'm not home." "What? Where are you?" "Hotel." "Hotel? Why?" I was silent for a few seconds. "Today, at the hospital entrance, I saw you." Silence on the other end. A long, heavy silence. I continued, "Weren't you out of town? Why were you shopping?" He took a deep breath. "Babe, listen to me—" "With Chloe." "..." "You were holding her hand. You were shopping." Caleb didn't speak. I could hear his breathing, slightly rapid. "Caleb, what is your relationship with her?" "Babe, it's a long story..." "Take your time. I have time." He went silent again. I waited. After about half a minute, he spoke. "Let's meet first, I can't explain over the phone." "No." "Babe—" "I don't want to see you right now." "Then what do you want?" I thought about it. "First, tell me what is going on with you and Chloe." He sighed. "It's really a long story." "I'm not afraid of long." "..." Silence again. I hung up. I didn't want to listen to his circles. If I want answers, I'll find them myself. I opened Chloe's Instagram. Latest post was three days ago, a photo of her nails. Caption: "New style, cute?" Caleb liked it. I scrolled down. A week ago, afternoon tea photo. Two coffees, two cakes. Caption: "Rare moment of leisure." In the photo, I could see a man's hand across the table, wearing a watch. That watch, I gave it to Caleb. Last year for his birthday, I saved three months' salary to buy it. I stared at that photo for a long time. Kept scrolling. Two weeks ago, movie ticket stubs. Two tickets. Caption: "Second time, still good." I remember that movie. I wanted to see it too. I asked Caleb, he said he didn't have time. Turns out he saw it with her. Three weeks ago, four weeks ago, a month ago... More and more. Every few days, there was a post. Photos didn't show faces, but there were always traces. A pair of men's chopsticks, a man's jacket, a familiar hand. And during all these times, Caleb told me—business trip, overtime, busy. I put down the phone. The room was quiet. Quiet enough to hear my own heartbeat. I suddenly found it laughable. I was hospitalized for eight days, hoping every day he'd come. He said he was busy, I believed him. He said soon, I believed him. Turns out he was shopping, drinking coffee, watching movies with another woman. That woman was my best friend. I sat up, went to the bathroom, washed my face. The person in the mirror was pale, eyes bloodshot. I looked at her and really wanted to ask: How can you be so stupid? Phone rang again. Caleb. I answered. "Babe, don't be mad. I'm coming to find you now, let's talk." I said, "No need." "Where are you? I'm coming." "I said, no need." "What do you want?" He sounded anxious. "You can't just ignore me like this." I laughed. "Caleb, I was in the hospital for eight days, you didn't come once. Now I don't want to see you for one night, and you're anxious?" He froze. I hung up. Turned off the phone. I'm going to sleep tonight. The rest can wait until tomorrow. 3 Early the next morning, I woke up. Turned on my phone. Notifications exploded. Caleb called dozens of times, sent dozens of texts. "Babe, where are you?" "I know I was wrong, come out and talk, okay?" "Don't do this, let's talk face to face." "If you don't answer, I'm calling the police." The last one was at 3 AM: "I'm waiting at the gate, when are you coming back?" I didn't reply. There were also messages from Chloe. "Hey girl, haven't heard from you lately. Let's grab food when you're free." "You there?" "Are you mad at me?" I looked at her messages, feeling disgusted. "Mad at her?" When she slept with my husband, did she think I might get mad? I didn't reply. I wanted to know more. I logged out of WeChat and opened Caleb's cloud photo album. We shared an account; he didn't know I had access. Usually, I couldn't be bothered to look. Today, I looked. I sorted by date. The most recent was yesterday, the one at the mall entrance. Selfie of Caleb and Chloe, heads touching, smiling sweetly. I scrolled down. Three days ago, at a restaurant. Five days ago, at the movies. A week ago, at a hotel. Yes, a hotel. Photo taken by Chloe. She was in a bathrobe on the bed. In the mirror behind her, Caleb's reflection. He was wearing the pajamas I recognized. I kept scrolling. Two weeks ago, three weeks ago, a month ago, two months ago... More and more photos. Beach, park, restaurant, movies, hotel... The earliest one was last October. Caleb and I got married last August. So, two months after our wedding, they were together. Wait. No. I scrolled further back. Earlier photos. Last June. We weren't married yet. A photo in a cafe, Caleb and Chloe sitting together. Chloe leaning her head on his shoulder. Last June. We were planning the wedding. Chloe helped me pick the dress, helped with makeup. She said: "You'll be the most beautiful bride." I believed her. I kept scrolling. March last year, January last year, December the year before... The photos went back, uninterrupted. The earliest one was September the year before. I met Caleb in August the year before. Chloe introduced us. She said: "This guy is reliable, give him a shot." September the year before. Caleb and I had been dating for one month. At that time, Chloe was already with him. I stared at that photo for a long time. In the photo, Chloe had her arms around Caleb's neck. Caleb was laughing, saying something. Background was an amusement park with a Ferris wheel. I knew that park. It was Chloe's favorite place. She took me there. She said: "Someday I want to take wedding photos here with my husband." I thought she hadn't found that husband yet. Turns out, she found him long ago. He was my husband. I put down the phone. The room was silent. I heard my own breathing, heavy and fast. I remembered many things. When Chloe introduced Caleb, she said they were just friends. At the wedding, Chloe was the maid of honor, smiling and helping the whole time. After marriage, Chloe often asked me out, asking how things were with Caleb. I said great, she said that's good. Now I know, she wasn't caring about me. She was checking if I found out. I suddenly felt nauseous. Ran to the bathroom, dry heaved over the toilet for a long time, nothing came out. My body was still weak. Only four days post-surgery. I held the wall to stand up, rinsed my face. The person in the mirror had red eyes. I took a deep breath. Don't cry. Can't cry. I have things to do. 4 I saved all the photos from the cloud to my phone. Then I opened his email. I knew the password; it was my birthday. Some work emails, nothing special. I checked "Sent". Scrolled a few pages, found one to Chloe. Subject: "Babe, Weekend Plans" Content: "Saturday prenatal checkup, I'll go with you. Sunday look at nurseries?" Date was last Friday. Prenatal checkup? Nursery? I froze. Chloe is pregnant? I scrolled down. Found another one, a month ago. Subject: "About the Baby" Content: "Babe don't worry, I'll take responsibility. Once things are handled with her, we'll be together officially." "Her" is me, right? "Handled" means what? Divorce? I kept scrolling. Two months ago. "Babe, you're pregnant, I'm so happy. We're keeping this baby." Two months ago. She was two months pregnant then. Plus this month. Chloe is three months pregnant. Three months. While I was hospitalized, she was three months pregnant. I was hospitalized for a miscarriage. She went for a prenatal checkup because she was pregnant. Caleb chose to accompany her. Not me. I sat on the edge of the bed, almost dropping my phone. I remembered the scene at the hospital entrance. Caleb holding Chloe's hand, laughing. Chloe leaning on him like a little girl. I didn't know then that Chloe was carrying Caleb's child. And I once carried one too. That baby is gone. Never got to see his father. I buried my face in the pillow. Finally cried. Not from grievance. From absurdity. I lay in the hospital for eight days, hoping for Caleb. He said busy, I waited. He said soon, I believed. Turns out he was accompanying another woman to prenatal checkups, picking out cribs. That woman was three months pregnant. My baby had been gone for four days. I wanted to ask him: Are you human? But I knew it was useless. He'd say "I had no choice," "It's a long story," "Let's talk." Useless. Nothing matters anymore. I wiped my tears, sat up. Done crying. Time for business. I organized all photos, emails, chats into a folder. Called my college friend. She's a lawyer. "Hey, Eve? What's up?" "I want a divorce." Silence for a second. "What happened?" "Caleb cheated. With Chloe. Chloe is three months pregnant." "...Wait, Chloe? That Chloe?" "Yeah, her." "Holy sh*t." Silence. "Do you have proof?" "Yes. Photos, emails, chats." "Good. Send them to me, I'll look over them." I said okay. Hung up, sent the folder. Then I opened my notes app and made a list: House: Bought before marriage, down payment by my parents, mortgage paid by me. Car: Caleb's pre-marital property. Savings: $40,000 in my account, unknown in his. Wedding gift money: $20,000, my mom kept it, didn't give it to me. Joint property: Appliances, furniture, less than $10,000 total. The house is the big one. As long as I keep the house, nothing else matters. Eve replied quickly: "Evidence is solid. Cheating is confirmed, you can claim damages. House is pre-marital property, no problem." I breathed a sigh of relief. Just as I was about to reply, phone rang. Caleb. Thought about it, answered. "Babe, where are you? I've been looking all night." "Hotel." "Which one? I'm coming." "No need." "Babe, listen, I can explain that day—" "No need to explain." He paused. "What do you mean?" "I know." "Know what?" I paused. "Chloe is pregnant, right? Three months." Silence. "You guys were together before us, right?" "..." "You chose to go to her checkup instead of seeing me. Right?" "...Babe, listen to me—" "I said, no need to explain." My voice was calm. "Caleb, I want a divorce."
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