1 By the seventh year of our marriage, Ethan seemed to have grown weary of me. His phone password had changed. He no longer shared the small details of his day. 【I’m swamped, feet barely touching the ground. No time for trivial chatter.】 Yet, later, in class, the young student he was sponsoring wept as she poured out her grievances to him. 【Just because I missed a few classes, the teacher wants to dock my participation grade.】 Without a word, he hired someone to vandalize my cubicle. When I returned to my office, I found utter chaos, shattered glass, and papers strewn across the floor. For a long moment, I stood frozen. Then, I bent to pick up our wedding photo, torn in half on the ground – a picture of us, so young and full of hope, beaming back. In that instant, everything just felt utterly meaningless. That evening, Ethan, a rare presence at home, carried the chill of the outside world with him. He handed me a few takeout containers. 【Passed by National University today, saw that old spot you loved. See if it tastes the same as it used to.】 The containers were barely warm, yet my palms felt scorched. "What were you doing at National University?" I asked. His hands, poised to loosen his tie, paused, then casually resumed their task. 【Client dinner.】 I nodded, tracing the wedding band on my ring finger. A colleague’s words resurfaced – she’d said the young student’s boyfriend, a man seemingly well-established, had hired the vandals. He’d even left a business card, telling me to contact him for compensation, his tone arrogant but brimming with confidence. That gilded card was still in my bag, its intricate patterns on the back. The prolonged silence made Ethan restless. He turned, kneeling before me, reaching out to cup my face. 【Why the long face? What happened?】 Just then, his phone chimed. His eyes flickered, his movements slowing by a beat. I pulled back a little. 【A student misbehaved, and she’s upset about being disciplined.】 At my answer, he relaxed, his suspended hand gently ruffling my hair. His voice, for once, was uncommonly soft. 【So even our Ms. Lila faces trouble at work.】 The chime sounded again. This time, I caught it – it was his 'special contacts' ringtone. The continuous stream of messages clearly distracted him. 【Don’t you want to know her name?】 【My student? How would I know her?】 【What if you do?】 【Chloe!】 He cut me off, a frown creasing his brow, then pointed to the documents on the table. 【I'm truly busy. The company's swamped. I don't want to come home and have to listen to your cryptic questions. You can handle things, right?】 The words choked in my throat, and I fell silent again. Ethan, his face cold, retreated into his study. When I followed him with the documents he’d dropped, my nose met the slammed door. The papers scattered across the floor, caught in the gust of air. I crouched, clutching my throbbing face, beginning to resent our house's poor soundproofing. It was so bad, I could still hear Ethan's hushed, tender voice from behind the door: 【Don't cry. I'm here.】 Ethan and I married in our seventh year of dating. He’d just failed his startup, and I hadn’t finished my studies. We had no car, no home, squeezing into a tiny rented apartment, eating instant noodles. Yet, somehow, we found the courage. Just a casual remark about the "seven-year itch" sent us impulsively to City Hall to get our marriage license, keeping it a secret from our families. Stepping out of the registry office, he held the red certificate, grinning at me. 【Seven years? What’s seven years? Lila, we’re legally married now. We have a lifetime to go.】 We were so naive, so innocent back then, believing love could conquer all. Until we learned to compromise with the world. After his third failure, he gave up on his startup, joined a big company, and steadily climbed the corporate ladder. And I, after graduating with my master's, gave up on studying abroad, choosing to become an ordinary teacher. Over those seven years, our paths diverged, we grew in different directions. We seemingly found both love and security, only to suddenly realize, looking back, that the person beside us had become a stranger, no longer the one we’d fallen in love with. The boy who, eyes red-rimmed, once rubbed my hands because we couldn't afford heating, was now comforting another girl's tears. Around eleven, I heard movement by the door. Ethan walked in, as he always did, pulling the covers over me. Seeing I was awake, he seemed surprised, then explained that a client had an emergency, and he had to go. I didn’t respond. 【Was that the same client you had dinner with today?】 【Hmm.】 【Is just having dinner not enough? Do you have to sleep with them too?】 Ethan, halfway into putting on his jacket, shot me a cold glance. 【What are you trying to say? That there's no such client, that I'm lying because I'm with another woman?】 He took a few steps back, scrutinizing me. 【You weren't this unreasonable before.】 After Ethan left, a message popped up in my staff group chat. It was Ms. Davies, the counselor for the third-year class, complaining: 【That Chloe girl in my class is causing trouble again. She insists her roommate is targeting her, making a fuss about moving out late at night. Can't stop her. Says her boyfriend is picking her up soon. These young girls nowadays, honestly…】 When I woke up the next morning, Ethan was lying beside me, his phone on the nightstand, its notification light blinking incessantly. I reached for it, but as my hand passed over him, he caught my wrist – his eyes filled with a guarded suspicion, as if I were a class enemy. I stated calmly, 【You have messages.】 He scoffed, handing me his phone. 【Go ahead and check. The password's our wedding anniversary.】 His tone was dismissive, almost mocking, as if taunting my lack of trust in our marriage. I typed in the password. Aside from company group chats, there were very few personal conversations. The recent messages were just a subordinate requesting leave. Seeing my grim expression, Ethan, as if he'd won a battle, put down his phone and pulled me into his arms. From under the pillow, he pulled out a box – inside was a ruby necklace. It was beautiful, a deep, pulsing crimson, like an endlessly beating heart. Even for us now, it was a significant expense. He gently put it on me, his voice tinged with weary resignation. 【It's our wedding anniversary today. We've been through fourteen years together. How could you have so little faith in me?】 With that, he closed his eyes, fatigued, nestling into the crook of my neck. 【Wife, I don't like you like this.】 If I hadn't seen that necklace in a magazine, knowing it came with a pair of matching earrings, I might have felt guilty for my suspicions. But there was no 'if.' Whose ears would those earrings adorn? I instinctively hugged Ethan back, trying to comfort myself: It's okay. They're just a free gift. That evening, Ethan stood me up for our candlelit dinner. When the waiter asked for the third time if I could give up my table, I awkwardly stood. A young couple who had been waiting eagerly took my spot, thanking me profusely. Even as I walked out of the restaurant, I could hear their sweet chatter about how hard it was to get a reservation, how famous the dishes were. My chat screen was stuck on a message from three hours ago, asking Ethan how much longer he’d be. I called him; it went straight to voicemail. Then a message came through: 【Something came up at work.】 On a whim, I opened the staff group chat, added Ms. Davies, the counselor, and asked her about the student from the other day. She seemed to find a willing ear, sending seven or eight voice messages in quick succession, finally telling me: That little girl’s boyfriend showed up again, helping her move her luggage. She couldn’t resist adding: He's quite handsome, actually. Time had been exceptionally kind to Ethan; he hadn't become a portly, unkempt middle-aged man. His thick black hair was neatly combed, his simple yet elegant suit exuded an aura of confidence and poise. Chloe stood beside him, twirling her long hair, occasionally glaring at passing girls, looking possessive. I stood behind them, watching him help the girl move her luggage, then share a late-night snack. They strolled leisurely through the campus. As they passed National University's famous Lovers' Lake, Chloe linked her arm through his. Ethan's expression remained placid, letting her cling, neither returning the gesture nor resisting. The girl's eyes crinkled in a smile, her cheeks flushed as she lowered her head, and a glint from her earlobes caught the light. I followed them until they entered an apartment building, then finally left. That night, my old professor called. He started by grumbling about his current students, then praised my talent in our field, finally tentatively asking where I was working now. I candidly told him I'd stayed to teach at the university after graduation. He expressed deep regret, asking if I was interested in joining an international project and continuing my research. I clutched my phone, thinking of something, and shook my head. 【I’m married.】 A long silence stretched on the line. Finally, my professor said no more, only hoping I’d consider it. When Ethan returned, I had just gotten out of the shower. He didn't even bother to take off his jacket before embracing me from behind. A faint scent of alcohol drifted from him. Then, a shower of kisses, dense and urgent, rained from my neck to my cheeks, finally lingering on my earlobes. His voice was hoarse, tinged with a rare desperation. 【Wife, I missed you.】 It had been so long since we'd been this intimate, not since his work had gotten so busy. I couldn't help but remember the ruby earrings, how intimately he had nestled with that young girl. My throat instantly tightened. I instinctively pushed him away. 【I don’t feel well.】 As if to prove my words, a moment later, my stomach churned violently. I rushed into the bathroom, throwing up until only a bitter, salty taste remained in my mouth. In that moment, I suddenly understood: I couldn’t just be indifferent anymore. When I emerged, Ethan was already asleep. His phone was still on the nightstand. This time, no one stopped me. I picked up the phone, typing in the young girl’s birthday. The screen unlocked to an interface completely different from what I’d seen that morning. There was only one contact, labeled "My Forever Young Girl." As I watched, a message came in: A photo. A pristine white sheet, neatly folded, adorned with crimson spots, a heart drawn in marker beside them. 【Remember our first time? When we became one, our hearts beat in sync, and I felt your burning love. Will big brother divorce for me?】 …My mind buzzed. I scrolled up through their chat history. It was as if they had endless things to say to each other, so much content that Ethan’s silence at home suddenly seemed "understandable." Two years ago, on Lunar New Year's Eve, he didn't come back to my hometown for the first time. We watched the boring New Year's gala from our phones, listening to the noisy firecrackers outside. At the stroke of midnight, he sent his blessings precisely on time. I even teased him then, saying we were an old married couple, no need for such exact timing. I didn't know that at that very moment, he was celebrating New Year's with that young girl, and they were making dinner together in the same house we'd lived in for seven years. In the photo, the girl's face was dusted with flour, beaming. Ethan's gaze was tender as he wiped her face. My fingertips slowly grew cold. I tormented myself, scrolling through the messages Ethan had sent her. At first, the girl spoke more. She called him "Kind Big Brother," innocently complaining about school troubles, about classmates being difficult. Later, Ethan's messages grew more frequent. He'd tell her about his work frustrations. Chloe mostly wouldn't understand, but she’d respond with a soft voice saying "So tough," and send "sympathy for big brother" emojis. And then, the Ethan of later messages was both familiar and a stranger to me – he’d share mundane daily details with her, and when she was upset, he'd rush to be with her. Those late nights he told me he was "busy with work" were almost always spent by her side. As I kept reading, the nausea returned, but I had nothing left to throw up. I pulled on a jacket, buried myself in the couch, and sank into a deep sleep. I felt cold in the night, but warm in the morning. When I woke up, I found myself curled in Ethan's arms, like a chick returning to its nest. Seeing I was awake, he naturally patted my back. 【Feeling better?】 On the table were water and medicine he’d prepared. Seeing me take it, he slipped a piece of candy into my mouth. The sickly sweet taste startled me. Still half-asleep, I instinctively questioned, 【I’m not a child.】 【Someone else gave it to me. I don’t like sweets anyway.】 He pulled me back into his embrace. 【Oh, by the way, did you know that girl I was sponsoring also got into National University?】 My heart suddenly clenched. 【What are you trying to say?】 He seemed oblivious. 【You have pretty good connections with a lot of professors. Could you put in a good word, help her get a spot in the grad program?】 Later that day at school, the principal informed me I’d been reported for "abusing authority and targeting a student." I knew it was Ethan's doing, so I submitted my resignation. However, with final exams approaching, the principal hoped I would help teach the last few classes. As I worked through calculations on the blackboard, Chloe sauntered in late. I glanced at her, then continued my lecture. During a short break, some students gathered around her, asking: 【You were late today, and Ms. Hayes didn't say anything to you. How did you do that?】 She was looking down, fiddling with her phone, a smug grin on her face. 【She wouldn't dare mess with me.】 She then launched into a vivid, embellished tale of how she and her boyfriend had "punished" me. Finally, she pulled out her phone and showed the others a picture of the two of them. 【Wow, your boyfriend is so handsome?! You two together look straight out of a billionaire romance novel!】 Someone snatched her phone and handed it to me. 【Ms. Hayes, look, isn't Chloe's boyfriend handsome?】 I looked at the familiar face on the screen, then at Chloe, who stood there, her face a mask of brazen provocation. In that instant, a sharp, cold fury pricked at my heart, impossible to contain. I gripped my lesson plan tightly, forcing myself to remain calm. 【I know him. He's a general manager at a publicly traded company. I heard he's already married. So, Chloe, are you… the other woman?】
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