One night, I was scrolling through a local thread on Snapchat. [Year-End Review: Rating all the guys I hooked up with this year.] Thinking of my cold, distant husband sleeping in the other room, curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked on the post. The comment section was filled with girls expressing their jealousy over how many high-quality men the poster had been with. I was just about to leave a sarcastic comment of my own when the poster uploaded a new photo. My entire body froze. [The last one: my ultimate bed partner, and the guy who gave me my sexual awakening.] [Even though he’s married, he’s got a killer body, top-tier bedroom skills, and he gives me whatever I want.] The attached photo was a selfie of the two of them lying in bed. It was only then that I realized the poster was Sophia Miller, the girl next door who grew up with my husband. And the sleeping man in the photo was none other than my husband—James Walker. I scrolled down, checking the dates. Valentine's Day—the night he claimed he had to "work overtime." My birthday—the night he was "at a business dinner." And our wedding anniversary—the night he finally came home late, only to use the excuse that he was "too exhausted" and went straight to sleep. Even last week, when I was hospitalized with acute gastroenteritis, my husband was in Miami, spending thousands of dollars on her. Every single time he was absent from my life, he was sleeping in another woman’s bed. I put my phone down. I didn’t cry. Instead, I screenshotted everything—especially the receipts for those expensive jewelry pieces—and saved them to an encrypted folder on my phone. Everything they took from me, I was going to make them pay back tenfold. In our one year of marriage, James was either working late or traveling for business. The times he actually came home could be counted on one hand. Every time I brought it up, he would dismiss me, saying his career had to come first. As it turned out, James had already gotten all the rest he needed in another woman's bed. The bedroom door pushed open, and James walked in, smelling of heavy perfume. He smiled and wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Hey, babe. What are you looking at?" I stared at the fresh hickey on his collarbone and got straight to the point. "James, how much longer do you plan on putting on this show?" His smile stiffened, a flash of panic crossing his eyes before he quickly put his gentle mask back on. "Are you picking a fight again?" "Didn't I tell you? Once I get promoted next year, I'll make it up to you..." "There is no next year." I shook his hands off, stood up, and looked him dead in the eye. "Save that speech for your ultimate bed partner." James's face paled slightly. "What bed partner? You know you're the only one I love, Amy. You're just being paranoid." "Do I really need to spell it out for you? You used our joint account to pay for your little trip to Miami." The color completely drained from James's face. He grabbed my wrist. "Did you go through my phone?" "You were just careless. Did you forget whose family money built your career in the first place?" I violently slapped his hand away. He was left speechless, his eyes darting around before he tried to turn the tables on me. "Amy, seriously? You're tracking me over something this minor?" Looking at him, a man so full of lies, the last bit of warmth in my chest turned ice-cold. He reached out to hug me, but I shoved him away so hard his back slammed against the doorframe with a dull thud. "Don't touch me," I said, coldness dripping from every word. "You're filthy." Before he could say anything else, the doorbell rang. I took the opportunity to walk out and open the door. James followed closely behind, his expression dark. Sophia Miller stood there, wearing a white cashmere coat and holding a gift box. She smiled sweetly. "Hey, Jimmy! Good evening." The moment she stepped inside, her eyes locked onto James. Then, as if suddenly remembering I was there, she looked at me and said in an intentionally loud voice, "Oh, Amy, you're here too! I'm so sorry, I was just so excited to see Jimmy. You're not mad, are you?" James’s mother, Margaret, immediately chimed in. "Of course not! Come on in, Sophia. Sit down. Amy, why don't you be a good host and cut some fruit for us?" I looked at James. He stood there, his head down, not saying a single word. How had I never noticed before? I had always been the outsider in this house. Sophia sat down comfortably on the couch and started commanding me. "Amy, I want strawberries. Cut them into heart shapes, okay?" "Also, that honey lemon water you made last time was so good. Can you make me another glass?" As she spoke, right in front of my face, she kicked off her slippers and rubbed her bare foot against James's calf. James tensed up. He glanced at me, but he didn't pull away. His mother raised her voice, impatient. "Go on, Amy. What's taking you so long?" I stood by the coffee table, picked up the empty plate, and slammed it down onto the counter. "Don't you have hands? Get it yourself." Without waiting for their reaction, I turned around, went into the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. Outside, I heard Sophia’s fake, dramatic gasp and James’s hushed voice trying to comfort her. Leaning against the cold door, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. "Hi, Mr. Davis? I need to consult you on something. I want to know the best asset division strategy for a divorce involving adultery."
After that night, James started coming home much more frequently. He even started offering to pick me up from work. But once I got into the car, I realized this wasn't the way home. "Where are we going?" "You've been in a bad mood lately. I booked a table at a restaurant to make it up to you." The car stopped in front of a high-end seafood restaurant. I recognized the place. Just a few days ago, Sophia had posted on Snapchat about how badly she wanted to eat here. The moment I pushed open the private dining room door, Sophia threw herself into James’s arms. "Jimmy! What took you so long?" I stood at the door and sneered. "So this is your way of making it up to me?" James quickly pushed Sophia away. "Sophie insisted on coming. She really wanted to apologize to you. Don't be mad at her." Sophia put on a pouty, apologetic face. "Yeah, Amy. I begged Jimmy to let me come so I could apologize. I'm so sorry." "I even ordered their signature dishes. You have to try them," Sophia said, pulling James down to sit next to her. I crossed my arms and watched the two of them. I felt like the third wheel in my own marriage. Sitting right next to James, Sophia picked up a peeled shrimp with her fork and held it to his mouth before she even ate anything herself. "Jimmy, open wide!" James didn't even hesitate. He took the bite right off her fork. I sat opposite them, watching this circus with a cold stare. Margaret, his mother, was grinning from ear to ear. She turned to lecture me. "Look at how sweet Sophie is. Have you ever fed James like that, Amy?" I ignored Margaret. Instead, I looked directly at James and asked calmly, "You know I'm highly allergic to seafood. What is the meaning of booking this place?" "Is your apology bringing her along, letting her sit next to you, and eating food right out of her hand?" James froze. The half-eaten food almost fell out of his mouth. Sophia immediately jumped in. "Oh, Amy, it's all my fault. I wanted to make this apology special. Please don't blame Jimmy." James, finding his escape route, nodded quickly. "Yeah, Amy. I told you, she’s like a sister to me. Sophie went through all this trouble to apologize to you. Just give her some respect." I slammed my fork onto the table with a loud clatter. "I'm full." I stood up and grabbed my purse. James finally panicked, grabbing my arm. "Amy! She already apologized. Why are you giving us attitude?" I violently shook him off, using enough force to make him stumble back a step. "James, you call the way you two were eating 'brother and sister'? Do you think I'm blind? Is playing me for a fool that fun?" The entire table went dead silent. Sophia’s eyes immediately welled up with tears, and she hid behind James, looking incredibly victimized. "Amy, please don't misunderstand. Jimmy and I are really just... *sob*..." "Shut up." I glared at Sophia. "Save the tears. They only work on him. Don't play your games in front of me. It makes me sick." I grabbed my coat and went to the entryway to change my shoes. James chased after me, his voice lowered but dripping with anger. "Amy! If you walk out that door right now, don't think you can just come back easily!" I turned around, looking at this man who had once sworn to build a home with me. I suddenly laughed. "James, I only realized today how perfect you two are for each other." "A pathological liar and a fake actress." "You really are a match made in heaven." With that, I pulled the door open and walked out without looking back. I checked into a hotel nearby. As I sat in my car, my phone lit up. Sophia’s Snapchat story had been updated. It wasn't a photo this time. It was a long block of text with a headline that pierced my eyes: [What’s the most thrilling way to sleep with a married man?] "The answer: Doing it right under his wife's nose."
My heart skipped a beat. A terrible feeling washed over me. "Every time I go to his house for dinner, I sit right next to him. Under the table, my leg never leaves his." "While his wife is busy running around the kitchen, we're practically on fire in the dining room." "But the best part is the milk. Every time his wife throws a tantrum, he brings her a warm glass of milk to make peace." Thinking back to the loving face and gentle words James used every time we had a cold war, I felt utterly disgusted. How could a man be this vile? Trembling, I kept reading. "His wife thinks it’s a sign of reconciliation, but in reality, there's a double dose of sleeping pills in that milk. Once she’s completely knocked out, I slip from the study into the master bedroom, and we go at it right next to her until dawn." "Once, I even pulled her nightgown up on purpose. He was terrified, but I told him she wouldn't wake up. He called me a little psycho, but it only made him more turned on." Below the post, the comments were filled with shock. Someone asked, "Did his wife never find out?" Sophia replied: [Find out? She thought that milk was his way of making up. She drank it obediently every single time.] [There was one time she didn't drink enough, and she rolled over in the middle of the night. He literally held a pillow over her face until her breathing went back to normal. Thrilling, right?] Staring at those words, my stomach churned violently. I shoved the car door open and threw up on the pavement. It was so sickening. I had actually loved this man. That glass of milk... I had drank it for an entire year. And every time I drank it, I would sleep like a corpse. When I woke up the next morning, James would always kiss my forehead with that sweet smile of his. "Morning, babe. Did you sleep well?" I had always assumed I was just exhausted from work. Only now did I realize it was the chemical side effects of the drugs. I remembered one night when he came home late and handed me the milk. While I was in the shower, I heard him on the balcony, whispering into his phone, "She just drank it. Give it an hour before you come over." At the time, I thought he was talking about a work project. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug deep into my palms. Since they chose to be monsters, they shouldn’t blame me for what was coming. That very night, I ordered high-tech streaming gear and hidden cameras online, and made a phone call. I waited until a time when I knew neither of them would be home, and went back to the house. I walked into the master bedroom, staring at the bed where I had slept with him less than ten times in our entire marriage. The bed he once claimed was "our sanctuary." Now, it just made me want to vomit. I pulled the devices out of my bag: pinhole cameras, voice recorders, and two infrared night-vision lenses. I hid one behind the vase on the nightstand, pointing directly at the bed. I mounted the other inside the slit of the ceiling light cover, giving a perfect overhead view of the entire room. Once everything was set up, I lay down on the mattress and connected the feeds to my phone. On my screen, the entire master bedroom was completely visible. I saved the test footage, left the apartment, and pulled out my phone to text James. In all the days I had been gone, he hadn't contacted me once. [I'm sorry. I was too emotional last time. I'm coming home tomorrow night. Let's talk.] Three seconds later, my phone vibrated. James replied with three words: [Glad you understand. I have a surprise for you too.] I turned off my phone, lay down on the hotel couch, and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow night. Would be the end of those two pathetic excuses for human beings.
The next evening, I showed up at my apartment building right on time, accompanied by four people. One was Mr. Davis, my lawyer, who was recording everything. Another was an influencer I hired who specialized in live-streaming relationship drama and exposing cheaters. Along with them were a building manager and a professional locksmith, just in case we needed witnesses. The live stream was already up with the title: [Husband Drugs Wife to Have Affair: Catching Them Live]. Within three minutes of going live, fifty thousand viewers flooded the stream. I pulled out my phone to check the hidden camera feed. The bedroom lights were on, clothes were scattered all over the floor, and James and Sophia were already locked in a passionate embrace. Meanwhile, the front door lock was giving an "access denied" error. They had blocked my code. I let out a cold laugh. Of course, they wouldn't miss a chance to lock me out while thinking I was coming home to apologize. I nodded to the locksmith. "Open it."
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