Before, he told me that after we got married, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger—he would take care of everything. He said I married him to be happy.
But ever since Shirley started working for him, everything changed.
He came home later and later. When company parties ended late, he would even drive her home personally.
At first, he told me he just felt bad for her—said she was a young girl trying to make it on her own. But their conversations stretched later and later into the night.
One time, I asked what they were talking about.
But he simply replied, "Work."
I never doubted my love for him. I never thought I had to.
But love can change in an instant. The night he left me—newly pregnant and sick—to be with Shirley, everything fell apart.
While I spent the night throwing up, unable to reach him, he was by her side.
Now, as he gestured toward the mess on the floor, his voice was filled with irritation. “Shirley is staying here tonight. Clean up quietly. Don’t wake her.”
His furrowed brow made it seem like I had created this mess on purpose.
Then, he led Shirley to the guest room.
At the doorway, she leaned up to kiss him—fully aware I was watching. Her eyes met mine, smug and taunting.