Waiting for my vasectomy, I found a top-voted post: "What's the cruelest revenge on a man?" The top answer: "Pretend to be his best friend, then steal everything he's proud of." "I did this to my childhood friend. His parents see me as their real son, giving me a higher job than him. His wife—his high school sweetheart—gave me her first time in his newly renovated home. His kids? Mine. They call me 'Daddy.' With one word, she got him to agree to a permanent vasectomy. Idiot." "Perfect. Now he'll never have kids." Comments were mixed, but many asked: "Why destroy him?" The poster admitted: "He was better than me at everything, always arrogant. I hated him. So I took over his life—piece by piece." "Right now, he's alone at the hospital, waiting for surgery. Meanwhile, I'm with his wife, planning to use this box of condoms tonight." His latest photo showed a thirteen-pack of Magnums on my bedroom nightstand. 1 The moment I saw that photo, my blood ran cold. I finally realized that the pathetic fool pitied by over a hundred thousand people… was me. And the person who wrote that post was, without a doubt, the man I’d considered my best friend my whole life: Marcus Finch. “So what if you all flame me? You can talk trash online, but in the real world, I’m the one driving a Bentley, living in a mansion, and sleeping with another man’s beautiful wife. My life is straight out of a power fantasy novel!” Marcus was completely unfazed by the criticism, even taunting his detractors. “It’s anonymous anyway, so no one knows who I am. Might as well show you something even better.” He posted another picture. A woman in a bunny costume was sitting at her vanity, her back to the camera. Her figure was enough to drive any man wild. And on her shoulder blade was a small, peach-blossom-shaped birthmark. “Holy shit, so you weren't bluffing? Your buddy’s wife is a knockout. Drop her number, I wanna be his buddy too!” “It’s a shame to keep a woman like that all to yourself. I mean, her husband’s already wearing one green hat, what’s a hundred more? Share the love, bro!” My hands were trembling with rage as I read the disgusting comments under the photo. On countless nights of passionate lovemaking, I had traced that birthmark on Sophie’s shoulder with my kisses, believing it was a delicate flower that bloomed only for me. But now, that flower had been exposed in the most vulgar way, subjected to the lewd jokes of thousands of men. A fire burned in my chest, the blood rushing to my head. And at that exact moment, a young nurse walked up to me with a clipboard. “Mr. Lucas Vance? It’s your turn for the procedure. Please bring your medical chart and follow me to the operating room.” Before she could finish, I had already ripped the chart into pieces. “I’m not doing it. Call the next person.” My face was a mask of cold fury. I stood up and walked away, dialing Sophie’s number as I went. She had told me her mother was sick and that she needed to stay with her tonight, which was why she couldn’t come with me to the hospital. I tried video-calling three times before she finally picked up, but she left her camera off. “Honey, why are you calling so late? Is the surgery over?” Sophie’s voice was a little breathless, with a hint of playful complaint. “You can’t fool me, you know. I’ve already given you a son and a daughter, I really don’t want any more.” “If you truly love me, you’ll go through with this completely. And you have to get a certificate from the doctor proving you’re permanently sterile!” 2 I didn’t even need to listen closely to know what was happening on the other end of the line. The fire in my chest roared hotter. I opened my mouth to confront her. But the words died on my lips. I couldn’t show my hand yet. They had been planning this for years; a direct confrontation would only hurt me. I clenched my jaw, forcing the inferno inside me down. “It’s done over here. Don’t worry about it.” Sophie’s voice instantly brightened, filled with unconcealed joy. “I knew you loved me most, honey. I’ll be sure to reward you properly when you get home.” Then, in a hurry, she hung up. With the rage forcibly suppressed, I drove home. As I pushed open the door, I heard the cheerful chatter of my son and daughter from the living room. They were laughing about something, full of life. They heard the door and turned, calling out in unison, “Daddy!” But when they saw it was me standing in the doorway, their smiles vanished. Their lips pressed into thin lines, their eyes filled with disappointment. They didn’t even move toward me. They just turned back to each other and started whispering, as if I were a complete stranger. The sight sent a familiar, sharp pain through my heart. It had always been like this. No matter how hard I tried to be a good father, my efforts were met with emotional indifference. But whenever Marcus was around, even if he did nothing at all, the children would flock to him. I had felt lost because of it, even jealous, but Sophie always comforted me, saying that kids were just like that with their fathers when they were young, and they’d grow out of it. Thinking back on it now, I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. How could I have been so stupid? The signs were all there, but I had been deceiving myself, refusing to look closer. Normally, even with their coldness, I would have walked over with a smile, pulling out the gifts I’d bought to win them over. I could never bring myself to scold them, even when they threw tantrums. But now, I didn’t even look at them. I ignored their reaction completely, changed my shoes, and sat down on the living room sofa. A few moments later, the bedroom door opened, and Sophie walked out. Her hair was still damp against her neck, and a complex scent clung to her. I knew exactly what had happened here while I was at the hospital. She saw me and immediately smiled, turning to the nanny. “Mrs. Davis, could you take the children down to the garden to play for a while? Make sure they’re safe.” The nanny nodded and led the reluctant children out the door. The living room fell silent. Sophie walked over to me, leaning in close, her warm breath brushing against my ear. “Honey, I have a surprise for you. Come to the bedroom with me?” I glanced up at her, silent for a few seconds, then stood and followed her into the bedroom. The moment we were inside, Sophie untied her robe. It fell to the floor, revealing the bunny costume from the photo. The tight outfit clung to her curves, and the peach blossom on her shoulder seemed to mock me. It was a sight that once would have sent a thrill through me. But today, my stomach churned. A wave of intense nausea washed over me, and I frowned. “I just had surgery. It’s not a good time.” I spoke coolly. Sophie’s smile froze for an instant, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. But she quickly composed herself, putting on a caring facade as she approached me. When I didn’t move, she didn't get angry. She just cooed softly. “It’s okay. I know you might be uncomfortable right after the procedure, but you can just bear with it.” “Didn’t the doctor say it wouldn’t affect anything? I want you right now…” 3 Sensing my coldness, Sophie paused, then turned and took a box from the drawer, holding it out to me. “Honey, I had someone bring this back from abroad for you. It’s a special supplement, perfect for your current condition. It’ll help you recover faster.” I glanced at the box. The packaging was exquisite, covered in a foreign script I couldn’t read. The seal was clearly broken. Someone had already opened it. I remained indifferent, neither taking it nor speaking. Sophie’s patience was wearing thin. The smile faded from her face, and her tone became tinged with annoyance. “Honey, I know you did this for me, but you can’t treat me like this.” “I went to all this trouble to get you supplements and prepare a surprise, and this is how you act? If you don’t want to see me, I’ll just leave.” With that, she feigned hurt, grabbed her robe, and stormed out of the bedroom into the guest room. I took out my phone and searched for the brand name on the box, but no matter how much I looked, I couldn't find any information. On a whim, I went back to the forum post. Marcus had updated it. “She’s going to go greet my idiot friend wearing that bunny costume. I didn’t even have her wash it first. The thought of it is just hilarious.” A comment immediately appeared below. “Dude, didn’t your friend just get a vasectomy? You’re making his wife wear that, but will he even be able to perform?” Marcus replied quickly: “Don’t worry, I already prepared a special supplement for him. Check out the picture.” He attached a photo of the exact same box Sophie had just given me. “This stuff is from the Middle East. It’s a potent aphrodisiac, the kind they give to studs at stud farms. I guarantee he’ll be able to get it up tonight.” “I just wonder if he’ll lose his mind when he finds out what he’s taking.” Someone tried to warn him: “Dude, don’t take it too far. You could kill him.” But Marcus was cavalier: “So what if he dies? He’s a useless waste of space anyway. But don’t worry, I have another surprise in store for him. I can’t let him die just yet.” The commenters went wild, begging to know what the surprise was, but Marcus was enjoying the suspense. “Be patient. You’ll all find out soon enough. I promise it’ll be spectacular.” I stared at the screen, a strange sense of curiosity rising within me. What was this “surprise” Marcus was talking about? He had already pushed me this far. What other tricks could he possibly have up his sleeve? I took a screenshot of the post and sent the link to a hacker, asking him to trace the IP address and identity of the user. Half an hour later, the results came back. It was, of course, Marcus himself, and the address was his residence in the city. After backing up all the evidence, my phone rang. It was my father. I answered, and his voice came through, sharp and angry. “Lucas! What the hell are you doing? Why did you upset Sophie again?” “Tomorrow is my sixtieth birthday. On such an important occasion, you’re causing trouble at home. It’s disgraceful!” I frowned but said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “I don’t care what your reasons are. Go to the guest room right now and apologize to Sophie. I will not have her feeling wronged in this house again!” With that, he hung up. I didn’t need to guess what had happened. Sophie had been playing her games again. I opened the family group chat and scrolled up. It didn’t take long to find the source.
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