"I'm pregnant." I smiled and handed the pregnancy test to Mia for her to see. She took it and looked down at it. Silence. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. She looked up, her expression very strange. "Is the baby your husband's?" I froze. "What do you mean?" She looked at me, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Nothing." But I saw it. That trace of... Panic in her eyes. 1. Mia is my best friend. From high school to now, twelve years. When I got married, she was my bridesmaid. When I bought a house, she looked at over twenty properties with me. Whenever I fought with Arthur, she always took my side. "Men are all trash." That was her catchphrase. She said she didn't want to get married; she was fine on her own. Three years ago, she got pregnant. "Whose is it?" I asked her. She said it was a married man, they couldn't go public. "Then what are you going to do?" "Have it." She said it very calmly. "I'll raise it alone." My heart ached for her. During that time, her morning sickness was terrible. I went over after work every day to take care of her. When she gave birth, I was the one waiting outside the delivery room. When the baby turned one month old, I helped organize the celebration. She said money was tight. I lent her a total of eighty thousand dollars over time. She said it was fine. She'd pay me back slowly. It's been three years. Not a cent has been paid back. I never pressed her. We're best friends, after all. I always thought that way. Until today. Until she asked that question. "Is the baby your husband's?" Sitting in the car, I repeatedly recalled her expression. That three-second silence. That trace of panic. And that inexplicable question. Why ask, "Is the baby your husband's?" Shouldn't a normal person say, "Congratulations"? I picked up my phone and scrolled through my chat history with Arthur. Very normal. Reporting his itinerary every day, "working overtime" two or three times a week. Working overtime. I suddenly remembered. Over the past three years, the number of times he worked overtime seemed to have increased. It used to be once or twice a month. Now it's two or three times a week. I scrolled through his social media feed again. Very normal. Work, gym, the occasional selfie. No abnormalities whatsoever. But— I opened the app and found Mia's feed. Three years ago, she started posting photos of her baby frequently. "Baby's first smile." "Baby's first time calling Mom." "Baby is three today!" I looked through them one by one. Suddenly, I stopped. There was a photo. The baby sitting on a man's lap. The photo only captured the man's lower half. Slacks. A belt. That belt. The birthday present I gave Arthur. 2. I stared at that photo for a long time. Maybe it was a coincidence. That specific belt was a few hundred dollars online, a lot of people bought it. Maybe it was just a coincidence. I put down my phone. Arthur said he was working overtime tonight, probably wouldn't be back until ten. I waited for him. At nine-thirty, the door opened. When he walked in, I was sitting on the sofa. "You're back?" "Yeah," he said, changing his shoes. "Overtime today killed me." "Want some water?" "Sure." I went to pour water, taking a casual glance at his phone. He had placed his phone face down on the coffee table. Screen facing down. He never used to do that. "Honey." "Hm?" "Where's that belt? The one I gave you." His movements paused for a second. "Which one?" "The Hermes one. The one I got you for your birthday last year." "Oh, that one," he took a sip of water. "It's at the office. I switch them out sometimes." "I haven't seen you wear it lately." "The style is a bit outdated." He said it very naturally. Too naturally. Like he had rehearsed it. That night, I couldn't sleep. At 2 AM, I looked at Arthur sleeping soundly beside me. I picked up his phone. I knew the passcode. His birthday. I opened his messaging app. Contacts. No Mia. I opened his text messages. Nothing. Call history. Nothing. Too clean. Abnormally clean. I opened his banking app. Transfer history. My heart started racing. March 2023, transfer: $5,000. April 2023, transfer: $8,000. May 2023, transfer: $5,000. Payee: Mia M. Mia's last name was Miller. I kept scrolling down. Every single month. As little as three thousand, as much as twenty thousand. I scrolled to the earliest transaction. June 2021. Three years ago. The month Mia got pregnant. I calculated the total. Six hundred and eighty thousand. My hands were shaking. Six hundred and eighty thousand. I lent her eighty thousand and was always too embarrassed to ask for it back. My husband transferred her six hundred and eighty thousand. Six hundred and eighty thousand. I gently put the phone down and lay back in bed. The man beside me was breathing evenly, sleeping very deeply. I kept my eyes open until dawn. 3. The next day, I called in sick. I had to find out the truth. I went to the apartment complex where Mia lived. She lived on the Eastside, in an older complex; she said she was renting. At least, that's what she said. I stood at the entrance of the complex and waited for two hours. At 10 AM, Mia came out. She was holding her baby's hand. The baby was three years old, growing fast. I watched them from a distance. Mia made a phone call, looking very happy. I couldn't hear what she was saying. But I saw her smile. A very sweet smile. They walked into the mall across the street. I didn't follow them. I walked into the apartment complex. Found the property management office. "Hello, I'd like to check the property information for an apartment in this complex." The property manager looked at me. "Who are you?" "I'm looking to buy a house. Someone recommended this complex." I gave them Mia's apartment number. The manager checked the computer. "This unit isn't for sale. It's owner-occupied." "Who is the owner?" "It's not convenient to disclose that." I smiled and pulled two hundred dollars out of my purse. "I just want to confirm if it's someone I know." The manager looked at the money and lowered his voice. "Arthur Vance. Bought it three years ago, all cash." All cash. Three years ago. The year Mia got pregnant. I walked out of the management office, my legs feeling a bit weak. Arthur bought a house for Mia to live in. All cash. I didn't know how much. But I had checked the housing prices in this complex. At least two million. A two-million-dollar house. Six hundred and eighty thousand in transfers. And that child. I stood at the entrance of the complex, watching the people coming and going. Suddenly, I really wanted to laugh. Mia said she was renting. Mia said money was tight. Mia said it was so hard being alone. I lent her eighty thousand. Helped her take care of the kid. Helped her organize the one-month celebration. Helped her find a maternity nurse. I thought I was a good best friend. Turns out I was an idiot. 4. I had to see it with my own eyes. Not because I didn't believe the evidence. But because— I needed to see what they looked like behind my back. It was a Friday. Arthur said he had a business dinner and wouldn't be home for dinner. I said okay. At 6 PM, I drove and followed his car. He didn't go to any dinner. He went to the Eastside. To Mia's complex. I parked my car across from the complex. Watched him park his car, grab a bag, and enter the building. Twenty minutes later, a light turned on in a window. I stared at that window. At 7:30, a small figure pressed against the window. The baby. What was he waiting for? At 8:00, I saw a man walk to the window and pick the baby up. It was Arthur. He lifted the baby high, and the baby laughed. I couldn't see what they were saying. But I saw Mia walk over too. She leaned against Arthur. The three of them stood in front of the window. Like a family. Like a normal, happy family of three. I sat in the car, staring at that window for a long time. I didn't even notice when the tears started falling. I didn't charge up there. I didn't knock on the door. I just sat in the car until the early hours of the morning. Arthur came out at 11 PM. He got in his car and drove off. I knew he was going home. Back to our home. To lie down next to me. And then tell me, "Drank too much at the dinner." At midnight, I got home. Arthur was already asleep. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, looking at the man on the bed. Married for five years. I thought we were very happy. I thought he just occasionally worked overtime. I thought my best friend just had bad luck. Turns out— I knew absolutely nothing. 5. I started pretending I didn't know anything. Working during the day, cooking at night, shopping with Arthur on weekends. He couldn't see anything unusual. Because my acting was stellar. I spent a week gathering evidence. Transfer records: $680,000. Property info: In Arthur's name, occupied by Mia. Photos: Over a dozen photos of Arthur and the baby, scraped from Mia's social media. Chat logs: I found his secondary messaging account. He had two accounts on his phone. One that I knew about. The other had only one person in its contacts. The alias was "Wife." It was Mia. I clicked open the chat history. "Hubby, the baby called me Daddy today." "I'll come over tonight." "Miss you so much." "Me too." I scrolled down, message by message. All the way back to three years ago. "I'm pregnant." "Have it. I'll take care of you both." "But you're already married..." "I'll get a divorce. When the time is right." When the time is right. Three years. I waited for his "time is right." I kept scrolling. Down to last month. "Hubby, what do we do if she's pregnant?" "Ignore it for now. Let me think." "You don't actually want that kid, do you?" "I only want you and the baby." I stared at those chat logs. He only wanted her and the baby. The child in my belly, he was going to "ignore it for now." I touched my stomach. It wasn't showing yet. The doctor said eight weeks. A little life. I thought it was a surprise. I thought Arthur would be thrilled. Turns out— My child, in his heart, was just a "nuisance." I took screenshots of the chat logs, sent them to myself, and then deleted the sending history. I put his phone down. He was still sleeping. Sleeping very deeply. I looked at his face and suddenly felt he was a complete stranger. Married for five years. Turns out I never truly knew this person. 6. I met with a lawyer. "Mrs. Vance, I need to understand your situation." "My husband cheated and has a child out of wedlock." I handed him the evidence. Transfer records. Property info. Chat screenshots. Photos. The lawyer flipped through it all, his expression grave. "The evidence is very solid." "I want a divorce." "No problem," the lawyer nodded. "Based on this evidence, you can claim severe fault on his part and fight for a larger share of the assets." "I don't want a larger share." I looked at him. "I want him to leave with absolutely nothing." The lawyer paused. "That... will be difficult." "The house was bought before marriage; I paid the down payment, and he pays the mortgage. I can claim the appreciated value of the mortgage payments. The car was bought after marriage, that can be split. As for the savings, I have records of him transferring $680,000 to that woman over the past three years. I want him to pay that money back to me." I listed them one by one. "Furthermore, he used marital assets to buy a house for the other woman, over two million in cash. I want that recovered." The lawyer looked at me for a moment. "Mrs. Vance, you've done your homework." "I have plenty of time." I smiled. "He cheated for three years, I have three years of evidence." The lawyer nodded. "I understand. I will help you prepare the materials." "One more thing." I looked at him. "That woman also has a husband." The lawyer looked up. "Her husband doesn't know about this." I paused. "I want him to know." The lawyer remained silent for a moment. "This is your personal matter, it's not appropriate for me to interfere. But legally, you have the right to inform him." "Good." I stood up. "I'll have the materials ready. Next week, I'm going to sit down and talk with them." "How do you plan to do that?" "In front of both sets of parents." I looked out the window. "I want everyone to know what they did." 7. I called my in-laws. "Mom, come over for dinner this weekend, I have something to say." "What is it?" "Good news." I also called my parents. "Dad, come over this weekend, I have something to tell you." "What is it?" "You'll know when you get here." Friday night, Arthur came home very early. "Wife, Mom and Dad are coming this weekend, what are you planning to cook?" "What do you want to eat?" "Anything. Whatever you make is delicious." He smiled and put his arm around me. I didn't dodge. "Hubby." "Hm?" "Do you love me?" He froze for a second, then smiled. "Of course I do." "What about Mia?" His smile stiffened. "What?" "Mia. My best friend. The baby's mother." I looked at him. "Do you love her?" His face changed. "What... what do you mean?" "That messaging account with the alias 'Wife', I saw it." He took a step back. "You went through my phone?" "Six hundred and eighty thousand in transfers. That house on the Eastside. The baby calling you Daddy." I enunciated every word. "Are you still going to pretend?" He opened his mouth. But nothing came out. "Mom and Dad are coming this weekend." I smiled. "Let's all have a chat." His face went white. "What are you going to do?" "What am I going to do?" I looked at him. "I'm going to let everyone know that you and my best friend have been raising an illegitimate child behind my back for three years."
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