Chapter 5
His expression twisted hideously, like a demon unleashed.
I stared at this unfamiliar man in front of me, waves of nausea washing over me.
This was the father of my son, the husband I had loved for half my life.
Beneath his gentle, refined exterior lay such an ugly, vicious side.
"Whatever." I was done talking anymore.
I turned to leave this stifling room.
Michael grabbed my wrist, his strength so brutal it felt like he would crush my bones.
"Where are going?" he demanded. "Who the hell is that guy?"
He shoved me up against the wall, slamming his hands on either side of me to trap me there.
His face was so close, I could feel his breath. It reeked of tobacco and rage, making me want to puke.
"Let go of me." I struggled, trying to break free.
"Are you going to talk or not?" he pressed, his voice low and threatening.
"I have nothing to say."
"Fine." He nodded, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.
Suddenly, he let go of me, marched over to the closet, and yanked the door open.
He rummaged frantically, tossing my clothes and bags onto the floor one by one.
"What are you doing?" I asked in shock.
He gave me no answer, tearing the entire closet apart like a mad man.
In the end, he fished out a bank card from a jewelry box tucked away in the back.
It was my secondary card, linked to his main account.
Most of our household bills were paid with this card.
He walked up to me, holding the card. "Are you using this card to bankroll your boy toy?"
My heart was completely shattered.
So in his eyes, was not just a loose woman, but also a gold‑digging liar.
I looked at him, and suddenly, I didn't want to cry anymore. I even found the whole thing somewhat ridiculous.
I straightened up, smoothing out the clothes he'd messed up.
Then, with every ounce of strength I had left, I slapped him hard across the face.
The sharp sound rang out, jarringly loud in the silent bedroom.
Michael stood there, stunned.
He cupped his cheek, staring at me in disbelief.
For more than twenty years of our marriage, I'd barely raised my voice at him, let alone laid a hand on him.
I'd always thought mutual respect was the best state for our marriage.
Turned out, it was nothing more than a joke born from my wishful thinking.
"How dare you hit me?" Michael growled, his voice sounding like it rose straight from hell.
I met his murderous gaze without the slightest trace of fear. "This slap was for myself.
"For being blind, wasting all those years loving you.
"For being stupid, thinking you were a man I could actually trust.
"And for being so naive, only now seeing your true colors."
My palm burned with sharp pain, yet a vengeful thrill surged inside me.
"You!" Michael raised his hand, as if he meant to strike back.
My heart was in my throat.
But his arm hung suspended in the air for a long moment before he finally let it fall limply to his side.
"Fine," he spat, his teeth clenched tight. "You win."
He hurled the bank card to the floor, spun around, and walked out of the bedroom without glancing back.
Then I heard the front door slam shut with brutal force.
The whole world went silent.
All the strength drained out of me in that instant.
I slid down the wall, slowly sinking to the floor.
The room was a total mess, like my life.
I sat on the cold floor with my knees drawn up to my chest, my tears pouring out.
I wasn't crying for Michael, but for all those years of youth and devotion that now felt wasted.
I had no idea how long I'd been crying.
It wasn't until my phone started ringing that I was dragged out of that endless grief.
It was my best friend, Emily.
"Hey, Emily," I said, my voice coming out rough and broken.
"What's wrong? You sound like you've been crying." Emily quickly picked up that something was off about me. "How did the hospital visit go yesterday? What did the doctor say?"
My heart gave another sharp, painful twist.
I couldn't hold it in anymore; I told her everything that had happened in the morning.
Michael's accusations, his insults, and that vicious word, "bastard."
Emily stayed quiet for a long time. Then she burst into a furious outburst. "Holy shit! Is Michael even a human being?
"Did he get his head slammed in a door or something? Vasectomy failures do happen.
"What right does he have to talk to you like that? After over twenty years together, he still doesn't trust you?
"What a jerk! I'm gonna go over there right now and tear his mouth apart."
I listened, a warm surge washing over my heart.
At least I still had one person in this world who believed in me, no questions asked.
"Don't be reckless." I sniffled. "I don't want to see him right now."
"That won't do." Emily grew agitated. "This has to be cleared up. We can't let him wrong you like this.
"Helen, listen to me. Don't think about anything else right now. Go to the hospital and get a full check-up.
"First, make sure if you're pregnant.
"Second, if you are, have the doctor give you a medical report stating that even after a vasectomy, a man can still get a woman pregnant.
"Then take that proof and shove it right in Michael's face.
"I don't believe science can't get through to his paranoid brain."
Emily's words were like a ray of light, piercing through the chaos in my mind.
Yeah, I couldn't let this go and bear this unjust accusation.
I needed to get to the hospital and find out what was really going on with my body.
I would use the facts to slap Michael hard across the face.
"You're right," I said, my voice finally steady again. "I'm going right now."
Emily aid at once, "I'll go with you."
"No thanks," I said gently. "This is my problem. I want to handle it myself.
"Besides, I want to see Dr. Warren again.
"I need to know what she really told Michael."
After hanging up, I got to my feet.
I walked into the bathroom and stared at the woman in the mirror: eyes puffy and red, worn‑out all over.
Helen, you couldn't let yourself fall apart now.
You had to stay strong, for your own innocence.