I was doing laundry when I found a pregnancy test report in my husband's pants pocket. I glanced at it. The name was Jessica Bell, four months pregnant. My husband, Mark Miller, is an OB/GYN. Logically, finding a patient's report left in his pocket could happen. But my gut screamed something was wrong. The report had a faint perfume smell I didn't recognize. Clutching the paper, I walked out into the living room. As I passed my mother-in-law's room, I heard her voice. Her usual booming tone, completely ignoring my presence. "Jessica, honey, you just focus on taking care of yourself, give me a big healthy grandson." She was on the phone. I couldn't make out the voice on the other end. "That Sarah is just bad luck, a jinx. Married three years and hasn't produced a damn thing. A barren hen, trying to end the Miller family line." Her vicious words kept coming, but I couldn't really hear them anymore. A cold numbness washed over me, like I'd been hit over the head. I looked down at the name on the report again. Jessica Bell. The letters burned my eyes. When Mark and I first started dating, his mother couldn't stand me. Said I was too skinny, wouldn't be good for childbearing. She even brought over some quack herbalist to check my pulse. After the guy left, she pointed at me, furious, yelling that I'd definitely end the Miller line, ruin the family legacy, make them a laughingstock. It was Mark who gently held me, reassuring me. He said having kids was his department; with a professional OB/GYN in the house, what was I worried about? His mom was just superstitious, don't take her words to heart. Because of Mark's tenderness, I married him. For three years, I came home from work, immediately hit the grocery store, cooked dinner, did the dishes, served soup – taking perfect care of Mark and his mother. I figured if I worked hard, put in the effort to build our little family, maybe time would soften his mother's heart. I never imagined my three years of sweat would lead to this. Mark cheated. Had a child with another woman. He knew. His mother knew. I was the only one completely in the dark. I bit my lip hard, trying not to make a sound. Tears welled up, streaming down my face. But I knew this wasn't the time to blow things up. Besides, a tiny sliver of hope remained. I still wanted to believe in Mark, that he still loved me. I had to wait. 2 That evening, when Mark got home from work, he went straight to his mother's room, telling me to start warming up dinner. Because of what happened earlier, I crept over and pressed my ear to the door, hearing Mark's hushed voice. "Mom, I haven't gotten the money yet. Tell Jessica to just hang tight." "Mark, Jessica's starting to show. You need to make a decision soon. I want to be a grandmother already. Sarah, that jinx, can't have kids anyway, and she's bad luck. She already caused her father's death; I'm worried she'll bring us down too." His mother, despite her country background, always tried to act sophisticated, usually speaking politely. But when it came to me, she turned into a viper, spitting pure venom. Mark hadn't answered yet, but I already had my answer. He knew. Not only was he cheating on me, doing this disgusting thing behind my back, but he was also plotting with his mother to keep deceiving me. My last shred of hope vanished. But I still underestimated him. "Mom, I only married her for the money! If her dad wasn't rich and connected, I wouldn't be Head of OB/GYN now. Her dad's gone, yeah, but the money isn't in hand yet. We've waited three years; divorcing now means it was all for nothing. Just be patient a little longer. Okay, I'm heading back out. Can't let her get suspicious." Mark's voice was still soft and gentle, just like his clean-cut, respectable appearance. But now, those gentle tones delivered the coldest, most heartless words imaginable. Each syllable was a knife, slicing my heart to pieces. I trembled with rage, feeling like ants were crawling under my skin, a twisting, pounding pain that almost made me pass out. Hearing him about to come out, I forced myself to pull it together and rushed into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, burying my face in the sink full of icy water. The biting cold shocked me back to a semblance of calm. Disappointment and helplessness receded, replaced by a surge of hatred. I, Sarah Davis, wasn't some pushover people could walk all over. If Mark Miller dared to treat me like this, he shouldn't expect any mercy! I fixed my appearance, plastered on my standard devoted wife smile, and walked out. "Honey, I made a big dinner for you, all your favorites." I choked back the nausea, gently rubbing his shoulders, whispering sweet nothings near his ear. I had to keep him calm for now. I also poured him a glass of red wine. He seemed to be in a good mood today, and because I'd always been so docile, he wasn't suspicious at all. I kept pouring, glass after glass, until Mark was drunk. He was much bigger than me, taller too. It was a struggle, but I managed to haul him back to the bedroom and dump him on the bed. "Mark? Honey?" I whispered his name a few times. No response. Carefully, I reached into his pants pocket for his phone. He rolled over, pinning my hand. My heart leaped into my throat; I thought I’d been caught. I steadied myself, gently stroking his arm, murmuring soothing words. After a moment, he settled back into a deep sleep. I gently tried for the phone again. This time, I got it. I held it up to his face. Face ID unlocked it. I opened his messaging app, scrolling through his chats with Jessica Bell, looking at her posts. The further back I scrolled, the more horrified I became. It wasn't that he'd changed his mind about me. He was a snake from the start. Three years ago, he and Jessica were already together. The moment he saw me, I became their target. So, I was the "other woman" in their relationship? I remembered how Mark had played the hero, rescuing me from some minor trouble, then pursuing me relentlessly. Falling in love, getting married... it was all calculated. He wanted my family's money. He wanted my dad, who was his direct supervisor at the hospital back then, to help him climb the ladder, secure the Head of OB/GYN position. His little scheme, ticking away like a clock. He'd been planning this from the very beginning, targeting me, targeting my family's wealth! I hated him. Hated myself for being so blind, fooled by his gentle act, letting a wolf into my life. But it wasn't too late. I gently slipped the phone back into Mark's pocket. My knuckles turned white as I clenched my fists, then slowly relaxed. They wanted to use me? I'd make damn sure their plans blew up in their faces, leaving them with nothing. I knew what mattered most to Mark and his venomous mother right now: the baby in Jessica's belly. 3 Three days later. "Honey, I'm off to work," I said, grabbing my car keys, pretending to head to the office. In reality, I hid in the underground parking garage, waiting for Mark to take the bait. Sure enough, moments after I supposedly left, he and his mother came out. I quietly tailed them. I watched him go into the apartment complex across the street and soon emerge, supporting a heavily pregnant woman. So, this was Jessica Bell. Definitely young and pretty. Even with the large belly, she wasn't ungainly; she had a certain mature allure. I watched Mark's mother grasp the other woman's hand, her face creased into a thousand wrinkles from smiling so broadly. A picture-perfect happy family. She had never, ever looked at me like that. In three years of marriage, my mother-in-law hadn't shown me a single shred of kindness. Ice filled my veins. Any lingering hope for Mark, this vile man who used me to get ahead and now plotted to steal my inheritance, vanished. All I felt was disgust. Right now, I just wanted to ruin him completely. They wanted their happy little family of four? Not on my watch! I snapped a few pictures with my phone for evidence, took a deep breath, gathered all my strength, and charged out, slapping Mark hard across the face. Five bright red finger marks instantly appeared on his clean-shaven cheek. He looked pathetic. "Who is SHE?" I pointed at Jessica, yelling loud enough to attract the attention of passersby, drawing an audience for the drama. Mark, stunned by the slap, was about to explode. When he turned and saw it was me, he froze, dumbfounded. His mother saw me hit her precious son and lunged at me, trying to grab my hair. I was ready. I dodged sideways quickly. In the shuffle, her elbow accidentally bumped Jessica. Jessica, already unsteady with her pregnancy, stumbled and fell, her belly hitting a decorative rock on the edge of the walkway. "Mark, my stomach hurts so bad! I'm bleeding!" Jessica clutched her belly. Bright red blood seeped out from under her dress, staining the pavement. "Who are you calling Mark? You shameless homewrecker! You're disgusting, seducing my husband!" I moved towards her, ready to slap her too. Seeing Jessica bleeding seemed to snap Mark out of it, revealing the snake beneath. His face darkened, and he moved to grab me. By now, a small crowd had gathered. People were pointing at Jessica on the ground, muttering about how shameless mistresses were getting these days, flaunting themselves in public. I took the opportunity to melt back into the crowd. Unable to get to me, and with Jessica and his mother fuming, Mark frantically scooped Jessica up, hailed a cab, and rushed off towards the hospital. Watching that cheating pair leave, I rubbed my stinging palm. There was no satisfaction, only a deep sadness. Who would have thought that I, Sarah Davis, would end up in some trashy soap opera plot, fighting a scumbag husband and his mistress? But there was no turning back now. 4 Mark didn't come home until the next morning, dragging himself in looking exhausted. "Let's get a divorce." I slapped the divorce papers down on the table. Mark looked like he hadn't slept all night, his face pale, covered in stubble. He suddenly dropped to his knees, crawling towards me, grabbing my feet, sobbing and begging. "Sarah, I know I messed up. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry." He started slapping himself across the face, hard. "Trust me, Sarah, please trust me. It was just that one time with her." "The baby's almost due, and it was 'just one time'? Who do you think is stupid, you or me? You think I'm that easy to fool?" This snake was still so good at putting on an act, all fake sincerity. If I didn't already know his real motives, I might have believed him. "I was drunk on that business trip. I don't know how, but she ended up in my bed. After it happened, I didn't dare tell you. Then she found me later, said she was pregnant. We've been married so long without kids... I felt bad for you, didn't want you to go through the pain of pregnancy and childbirth. I thought... I thought I'd let her have the baby, then we could raise it together, like our own." Mark's voice grew even softer, his eyes welling up as he looked up at me, playing the devoted husband. He knew I usually fell for this routine. Ha. So he definitely didn't want a divorce. Plan was to keep me placated until he got the money, then kick me to the curb. Appearances, the mistress, the baby – none of it mattered as much as the money. I sneered inwardly. Pathetic. He wants to act? Fine, I'll play along. "Then you have to cut off all contact with her. Completely." I pretended to give in. Mark, thinking I'd softened, let out a visible sigh of relief. He swore up and down, promising he'd break it off completely, that I was the only one he loved. His phone kept vibrating. He ignored it twice, but it rang again persistently. I decided to help his charade along. "Maybe it's work calling? Since you missed yesterday." "Right, right," he agreed quickly. He went out onto the balcony, pretended to take a call, didn't even bother changing his excuse – claimed there was an emergency meeting at the hospital – and rushed out. I knew exactly where he was going.
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