Chapter 3 · Ten Years Of Marriage, I Found He Had Two Phones

A 3-million-dollar house.

In Dale, Peter had bought a 3-million-dollar house for some other woman.

What about me?

Jack and I were stuck in a tiny rented place, shelling out 1 thousand a month.

Every time I asked Peter, "So, when can we buy a house?" he would just shrug and say, "Let's wait. Prices are crazy right now."

When I brought up moving to somewhere bigger, he just waved it off, "Renting's fine. Buying is a waste of money."

I crouched on the cold bathroom tiles, just staring at the phone.

He bought a 3-million-dollar house for another woman.

But I only got a 20-buck hairpin.

That was all I was worth to him.

Suddenly, a flood of memories hit me.

Three years ago, my mom got sick and needed a minor surgery.

I didn't have enough money, so I asked Peter to lend me 2 thousand.

He just shrugged and said, "We're broke. Why don't you ask your sister?"

So I did.

But that same month, Peter sent 6 thousand to that woman.

Last winter, Jack begged to take swimming lessons. The class cost 1,300 bucks for the semester.

I asked Peter if Jack could join.

Peter shook his head and said, "That's way too much. Let's wait until he's older."

But that same month, he spent 2 thousand on Lego sets for the other woman's kid.

I clutched my phone so tight that my knuckles went white.

For ten years in this marriage, I was nothing but a fool.

I thought Peter was just careful with money, but it turned out he was only stingy when it came to me.

I thought he didn't earn much, but really, he was spending it all somewhere else.

I thought this was a plain but solid marriage, but I was the only one actually living in it.

I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror: thirty-two, fine lines creeping around my eyes, sallow skin, hair tied back in a lazy ponytail.

I couldn't remember the last time I actually tried to look nice.

Because I couldn't afford it.

Because it was "not worth it."

Because every time I bought something, Peter would roll his eyes and say, "Blowing money again."

I stared at the exhausted woman in the mirror and suddenly cracked a bitter smile.

Peter, did you really think I'd stay clueless?

The next day was Saturday.

Peter said he had to go on a business trip to Dale.

"How long?" I asked.

"Three or four days. Something came up with the project," he replied.

"Okay," I said.

I didn't bother asking anything else.

He packed a small suitcase and headed out at two in the afternoon.

I watched his car disappear at the gate, then grabbed my phone and pulled up the GPS app.

He'd put a tracker in his car himself, saying it was just to make the car easier to find.

The password was our wedding anniversary.

He probably forgot I knew it, too.

I watched the little red dot on the map, tracking his car as it headed south down the highway.

By six in the evening, he'd arrived in Dale.

The red dot stopped at the entrance of a residential complex.

I took a screenshot.

Then I grabbed the old phone and saw he'd messaged his 'wife.'

He texted: [Hey, I'm here. What do you want for dinner tonight?]

She sent back a smiley and replied: [Anything you cook is amazing.]

He texted again: [Where's Leo?]

She replied: [He's doing his homework, waiting for you to play with him when you get back.]

I stared at those texts, and suddenly, the whole thing just felt ridiculous.

Peter never cooked at home.

He always said he didn't know how.

He always said it was "shameful" for a guy to step into the kitchen.

Ten years of marriage, and not once did he make me so much as a bowl of noodles.

So he did know how to cook after all.

Just not for me.

I put the phone down and started making dinner for Jack.

"Mom, where's Dad?" Jack asked.

"He's on a business trip," I replied.

Jack pouted. He complained, "Again? He hasn't played with me in forever."

I looked at Jack's face, and my heart twisted with pain.

"How about I play with you instead?" I said.

"Alright," Jack said.

After I finally got Jack to sleep, I sat down on the couch and started sorting through everything I'd found over the past few days.

The other woman's name was Stella Lynch, three years younger than me.

She lived in a spacious 1,800-square-foot place in Dale.

She had a son, six years old, named Leo Thomas.

Leo Thomas.

Peter gave that child the Thomas surname, just like Jack.

I looked up the details of that house.

It was bought in January 2023 for 3 million dollars.

Peter put down 1 million as a down payment and took out a loan for the remaining 2 million.

The loan was in Peter's name, but the deed was in Stella's name.

He covered the entire cost of the 3-million-dollar house, but her name was the only one on the deed.

I looked into his cars next.

He actually owned two.

One was our beat-up Santana, bought second-hand ten years ago for 20 thousand.

The other? A BMW he picked up in 2022 for 170 grand, except the registration was all in Stella's name.

Looking at those numbers, I was shaking all over.

Chapter 3

A 3-million-dollar house.

In Dale, Peter had bought a 3-million-dollar house for some other woman.

What about me?

Jack and I were stuck in a tiny rented place, shelling out 1 thousand a month.

Every time I asked Peter, "So, when can we buy a house?" he would just shrug and say, "Let's wait. Prices are crazy right now."

When I brought up moving to somewhere bigger, he just waved it off, "Renting's fine. Buying is a waste of money."

I crouched on the cold bathroom tiles, just staring at the phone.

He bought a 3-million-dollar house for another woman.

But I only got a 20-buck hairpin.

That was all I was worth to him.

Suddenly, a flood of memories hit me.

Three years ago, my mom got sick and needed a minor surgery.

I didn't have enough money, so I asked Peter to lend me 2 thousand.

He just shrugged and said, "We're broke. Why don't you ask your sister?"

So I did.

But that same month, Peter sent 6 thousand to that woman.

Last winter, Jack begged to take swimming lessons. The class cost 1,300 bucks for the semester.

I asked Peter if Jack could join.

Peter shook his head and said, "That's way too much. Let's wait until he's older."

But that same month, he spent 2 thousand on Lego sets for the other woman's kid.

I clutched my phone so tight that my knuckles went white.

For ten years in this marriage, I was nothing but a fool.

I thought Peter was just careful with money, but it turned out he was only stingy when it came to me.

I thought he didn't earn much, but really, he was spending it all somewhere else.

I thought this was a plain but solid marriage, but I was the only one actually living in it.

I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror: thirty-two, fine lines creeping around my eyes, sallow skin, hair tied back in a lazy ponytail.

I couldn't remember the last time I actually tried to look nice.

Because I couldn't afford it.

Because it was "not worth it."

Because every time I bought something, Peter would roll his eyes and say, "Blowing money again."

I stared at the exhausted woman in the mirror and suddenly cracked a bitter smile.

Peter, did you really think I'd stay clueless?

The next day was Saturday.

Peter said he had to go on a business trip to Dale.

"How long?" I asked.

"Three or four days. Something came up with the project," he replied.

"Okay," I said.

I didn't bother asking anything else.

He packed a small suitcase and headed out at two in the afternoon.

I watched his car disappear at the gate, then grabbed my phone and pulled up the GPS app.

He'd put a tracker in his car himself, saying it was just to make the car easier to find.

The password was our wedding anniversary.

He probably forgot I knew it, too.

I watched the little red dot on the map, tracking his car as it headed south down the highway.

By six in the evening, he'd arrived in Dale.

The red dot stopped at the entrance of a residential complex.

I took a screenshot.

Then I grabbed the old phone and saw he'd messaged his 'wife.'

He texted: [Hey, I'm here. What do you want for dinner tonight?]

She sent back a smiley and replied: [Anything you cook is amazing.]

He texted again: [Where's Leo?]

She replied: [He's doing his homework, waiting for you to play with him when you get back.]

I stared at those texts, and suddenly, the whole thing just felt ridiculous.

Peter never cooked at home.

He always said he didn't know how.

He always said it was "shameful" for a guy to step into the kitchen.

Ten years of marriage, and not once did he make me so much as a bowl of noodles.

So he did know how to cook after all.

Just not for me.

I put the phone down and started making dinner for Jack.

"Mom, where's Dad?" Jack asked.

"He's on a business trip," I replied.

Jack pouted. He complained, "Again? He hasn't played with me in forever."

I looked at Jack's face, and my heart twisted with pain.

"How about I play with you instead?" I said.

"Alright," Jack said.

After I finally got Jack to sleep, I sat down on the couch and started sorting through everything I'd found over the past few days.

The other woman's name was Stella Lynch, three years younger than me.

She lived in a spacious 1,800-square-foot place in Dale.

She had a son, six years old, named Leo Thomas.

Leo Thomas.

Peter gave that child the Thomas surname, just like Jack.

I looked up the details of that house.

It was bought in January 2023 for 3 million dollars.

Peter put down 1 million as a down payment and took out a loan for the remaining 2 million.

The loan was in Peter's name, but the deed was in Stella's name.

He covered the entire cost of the 3-million-dollar house, but her name was the only one on the deed.

I looked into his cars next.

He actually owned two.

One was our beat-up Santana, bought second-hand ten years ago for 20 thousand.

The other? A BMW he picked up in 2022 for 170 grand, except the registration was all in Stella's name.

Looking at those numbers, I was shaking all over.