Ten years of marriage. I sent my best friend, Ashley, a link on SnapChat. "I’m planning a huge party for our tenth anniversary. Help me plan it. I want to give him a surprise!" She replied with a quick thumbs-up emoji. But the next second, she went straight to Twitter to complain about me on her spam account: "People who show off their marriages always get divorced the fastest. Cringe." That was the exact moment I realized my best friend of ten years was actually the anonymous online stranger I had been following for a decade. I had spent ten years reading about her secret love affair with my husband. And I finally realized my own marriage had been a rotting corpse for a long time. When I first saw the tweet, I couldn't believe my eyes. Ashley had posted a screenshot of our chat. She was trying to complain about me, but she forgot to blur out my profile picture. With trembling hands, I scrolled through her entire account. Every single post matched my life perfectly. "He’s on a business trip, so I’m going to surprise him! Flying to his city tonight!" "It’s my birthday. We had dinner with his annoying 'third wheel' wife. He kept rubbing my leg under the table with his foot. We went back to his place and had sex four times!" "I have a fever. He left immediately after one call and spent the whole night with me at the ER." ... So, when Ethan was supposedly on business trips, someone else was in his bed. On Ashley’s birthday, Ethan told me he had to work overtime and couldn't come home. I actually felt bad for him and made him chicken soup. And those three days he spent "working late" at the office? He was actually playing the caring boyfriend at the hospital for Ashley. Holding back my nausea, I read through every single one of her tweets. I matched the dates with my text history with Ethan. It was undeniable. Me, my husband, and Ashley. The three of us had been tangled in this mess for ten years. We had been married for ten years. He had been cheating on me for ten years. And the woman was my best friend. The double betrayal of friendship and love hit me like a truck. I couldn't breathe. My chest ached so badly. I sat on the couch for a long time, trying to force myself to calm down. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ethan on WhatsApp: "Working late tonight. Don't wait up!" Instinctively, I went back to Ashley’s Twitter and refreshed the page. Sure enough, she had just posted. "The third wheel annoyed me today. Making him come over to pamper me now!" I let out a bitter laugh. It turned out *I* was the third wheel all along. I screenshotted everything and saved it. I acted like I knew nothing. Then, I texted Ashley back on SnapChat: "Make sure this anniversary is unforgettable. Oh, and I want a massive LED screen at the venue!" Ashley took five minutes to reply with a simple "Sure." I knew she was burning with jealousy inside. But there was nothing she could do. On paper, I was still Mrs. Carter. I remembered when Ethan proposed to me ten years ago. Ashley had planned that event, too. She was just a rookie at a wedding planning agency back then. When Ethan got down on one knee, Ashley’s knuckles turned white. Her eyes were filled with pure hatred. At the time, I thought she just didn't like Ethan. After all, best friends are often protective. Now I knew. That look was pure, unadulterated hatred for me. She hated me for taking Ethan, yet she was willing to degrade herself to be his secret side chick for ten years. I cried, then I laughed. Then I cried again. This piece of trash was playing two women at the same time, enjoying the best of both worlds. Did he really think it would be that easy? I wiped my tears. I pretended everything was fine and sent Ashley all the details and requirements for the anniversary party. If I was going to feel disgusted, I was going to make sure she felt it tenfold. Ashley and I had known each other for almost twenty years. We had been friends since elementary school and went to the same college. We were inseparable. Our parents became close friends because of us. My dad’s company even threw a lot of business to her family’s business because of our friendship. Now, all of that was over. I took some time to visit my parents. I laid all the cards on the table. I told them I wanted a divorce. When my dad heard what Ethan did, he was furious. "That piece of garbage! How dare he do this to you? I’ll break his legs!" "Dad, calm down. Let's cut off his escape routes first. We do this slowly." I wanted them to go back to exactly where they started. Back when Ethan was just a broke kid from a poor family. If Ashley still loved him then, I would gladly let her have him. I left my daughter, Emma, with my parents and went home. When I got back, Ethan was already home. His phone was on the coffee table, and he was in the shower. I didn't touch his phone. A man who had hidden a secret for ten years was incredibly cautious. Besides, I didn't need to look at their love texts anymore. I wanted to deliver a fatal blow.
Ethan worked at a firm owned by my dad’s old army buddy. His base salary was $10,000 a month, with a year-end bonus of around $30,000. An annual income of $150,000 made him upper-middle class. But that was only because we had no mortgage, no car payments, our daughter was smart enough not to need expensive private tutoring, and I had my own high-paying job. All of his $150,000 went entirely to his own comfort. I pulled my thoughts back as Ethan walked out of the bathroom. I smiled at him. "You’re home?" "Yeah. I visited my parents today. They told me there’s a luxury brownstone in the West Village up for sale. You know how rare it is for properties to open up there." "I want to buy it and put it under Emma’s name. What do you think?" "Emma is only in elementary school. Isn't it too early to buy her a house?" I handed him the property portfolio I had prepared. "It’s a 1,500-square-foot place. Move-in ready and beautifully maintained. Even if Emma doesn't want it later, we can use it for retirement." "More importantly, Mr. Sterling’s father-in-law lives right next door. If we move there, you can get closer to him. It’ll help your career." Hearing this, his eyes lit up instantly. "Honey, you’ve worked so hard!" "It’s fine. We’re family. It’s just that I’m a bit short on cash, and taking out a loan isn't smart right now." "I’ll find a way to get the money," Ethan said quickly. See? He wasn't stingy. He was just transactional. Mr. Sterling was the boss he had been trying to suck up to for years. The bait I threw was too good for him to refuse. Ethan had been at the firm for eight years, relying on my family’s connections to climb the ladder. He had always wanted to shed the label of "the guy who married into money." He was trying to find his own way out. Before, I thought he was just ambitious. Now I realized he was preparing to cut ties with me completely. So, he didn't doubt my suggestion for a second. But what Ethan didn't know was that Mr. Sterling and his wife had been separated for years. Mr. Sterling despised men who cheated. He had built his wealth through his wife's family but still wanted to keep a mistress on the side, which made him a hypocrite. If Ethan tried to use this to get closer to him, he was playing with fire. The next day, Ethan handed me a black card. "This has all my bonuses from the past few years. There’s about $300,000 in it. It’s all yours." I was slightly surprised. Ethan was generous, and he was richer than I thought. But something felt off. I took the card, bought the condo, and used the remaining cash for renovations. At the same time, I started digging into Ethan’s actual income. When I got the detailed reports, I was shocked. Ethan’s annual package had already reached $400,000. Yet, he was still playing poor with me. Over the years, he had secretly amassed over $1.5 million in savings that I knew absolutely nothing about. Then I remembered that Ashley had bought a $40,000 Hermès Birkin bag last month. She told me she bought it as a treat for herself. But with her salary, there was no way she could afford it. Ethan must have bought it for her. What a joke. On the day she showed it off to me, Ethan had come back from a "business trip" and gifted me a $1,000 designer wallet. He used gifts to define our status in his life. Ethan, don't blame me. You brought this on yourself. I hired a lawyer and began gathering evidence of his asset hiding. Once everything was ready, I posted the house contract on my Instagram. "A little gift for my daughter's future!" My friends instantly flooded the comment section with congratulations. These comments drove Ashley insane with jealousy. "Stop bragging! Ethan is so generous to you!" she texted me. I replied: "Of course he is. Otherwise, some outsider might try to steal it!" She didn't reply. I smiled. She couldn't even handle this?
Ashley couldn't take it anymore. During dinner, Ethan’s phone kept buzzing. He looked anxious but kept declining the calls. "Who is it? Just answer it," I said. "Just some urgent work stuff. I need to go check on it!" As he rushed out, I texted my private investigator to follow him. Within twenty minutes, I received photos of them kissing passionately in his car. I looked at the cold soup on the table and dumped the entire bowl into the trash. At 10 PM, I called Ethan. He didn't pick up. I called four more times before he finally answered. "Is everything okay?" his voice was tense. "I saw you weren't back yet. I made some late-night snacks. Should I bring them over to your office?" He panicked over the phone. I heard a faint, sharp gasp in the background. I knew it was Ashley. "What was that noise?" I asked. "Nothing! We’re almost wrapped up here. I’m heading home now. Don't wait up, go to sleep!" "Okay." The moment I hung up, I drove to his office building. It was pitch black. I took a photo of the dark building and sent it to him on WhatsApp. "Are you off work? I’m downstairs." Ethan called me immediately. "Vivian, why are you there? I just drove a colleague home. Wait there, I’ll drive back and pick you up!" "No need. I’m going home." I hung up and let out a cold laugh. I had tried to give him—and myself—one last chance. But he threw it away. When he got home, I pretended to be asleep. He crept into bed and tried to hug me. It made my skin crawl. I rolled over, breaking his embrace. Ethan seemed to realize something. He sighed and eventually fell asleep beside me. Soon, his steady breathing filled the room, but I couldn't sleep. I opened Twitter and checked Ashley’s spam account. "When can you stay with me for the whole night? The baby misses you too!" There was a photo of her hand resting on her flat stomach. My heart stopped. No one was going to steal my daughter Emma's inheritance. Under Ashley’s post, some internet sleuths had already started pointing things out. "Are you a side chick? The dad can't stay the night because he has another family, right?" "I can't believe I followed this account for so long. You’re a homewrecker. Gross." "Unfollowed. I hope the wife finds out!" "Ten years? You’ve been messing with a married man for ten years? The wife must be devastated." Ashley argued with people in the comments before finally deleting the post. But I had already screenshotted everything. It seemed the internet still had a moral compass. I was relieved. Ashley, the deeper your love for Ethan, the harder you’re going to fall when this is exposed. I couldn't wait. A few days later, Ashley sent me the venue layout for the anniversary. I looked at it. It was filled with Ashley's personal favorites. She had snuck in so many of her own touches. Ethan's photos were blown up so large that it looked more like his solo photography exhibition than our wedding anniversary. I didn't say anything. I just told her she had full control. Finally, the anniversary arrived. I invited many friends, family members, and Ethan’s business partners. It was Ashley’s masterpiece. Gardenias and white lilies filled the hall. When I walked in and saw the venue, a cold smirk played on my lips. But I kept my face neutral. As the guests entered the hall, I stood backstage in a stunning red dress with flawless makeup. I looked at Ethan in the crowd and smiled. Ethan met my gaze, his eyes full of tenderness. I had to hand it to him. His acting was top-tier. I walked up to the stage and turned on the microphone. "Thank you all for taking the time to join us today. Welcome to my divorce announcement party."
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