Once upon a time, I considered myself a fortunate man. My wife and I weren’t wealthy, but we lived comfortably, both working hard and spending weekends with our child. We rarely argued, and everyone admired our seemingly happy family. Perhaps it was this very trust that blinded me to the possibility of the predicament I now find myself in.
A little over a month ago, my company hosted a celebration after completing a major project. After months of intense work, everyone was eager to unwind, enjoy good food, and toast to our success. Though I’m not much of a drinker, my colleagues kept refilling my glass that evening.
The atmosphere was lively, with managers and employees mingling freely. Around 9 PM, feeling lightheaded, I asked my supervisor if I could leave early. He laughed and slapped my shoulder:
“You’re leaving already? It’s still early! Stay a bit longer and enjoy the night.”
Reluctantly, I stayed. As the evening progressed, a new female colleague, who had joined the company just a few months prior, sat beside me. She was in her early twenties and spoke with great respect. She turned to me and said:
“Could you guide me in the future? I’m still new and have a lot to learn.”
I simply smiled and replied:
“Of course, feel free to ask me anything.”
Since we were seated at the same table, we ended up chatting quite a bit. The party’s relaxed vibe and laughter made it easy to converse without drawing attention.
Sitting at the same table, we ended up talking quite a bit. (Illustrative image)
When the party ended, she was completely inebriated, unable to call a ride. Concerned about leaving a young woman in such a state, I offered to take her home. Initially, I planned to hail a taxi, but she mentioned her apartment was far away and that she lived alone since her parents were in the countryside. Seeing her repeatedly vomiting, I decided to book a nearby hotel room for her to rest until she sobered up and could call someone to pick her up.
Honestly, the alcohol had clouded my judgment too. I only intended to help a colleague, with no ulterior motives. However, as I escorted her into the hotel lobby, my life took an unexpected turn that still feels surreal.
The elevator doors opened, and out stepped my wife, accompanied by a man a few years younger than me. They stood close, her arm linked with his. Our eyes locked, and I froze. She, too, was stunned for a moment, her face flushing—whether from alcohol or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell. The man quickly released her arm, and she turned away without a word. My colleague whispered:
“Do you know her?”
I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat.
“Yes… she’s my wife.”
My colleague’s eyes widened, and she fell silent. My wife said nothing, rushing out of the hotel. I was too stunned to think about anything else. I told my colleague:
“Go rest in your room. I’ll ask the staff to check on you. I have to leave.”
I turned and walked away. On the drive home, my mind was blank. I wondered if I had imagined it all, or if their encounter was merely coincidental. But if it were innocent, why were they leaving a hotel together?
I took my colleague to the hotel to rest. (Illustrative image)
Unable to bear it any longer, I called my wife. After several rings, she answered. I asked directly:
“Who were you with at the hotel?”
There was a brief silence before she replied calmly:
“You saw us, so why ask?”
My heart felt crushed, but I tried to explain:
“I only took my colleague there because she was too drunk. I did nothing wrong.”
My wife scoffed:
“If I had taken a man to a hotel, would you believe me?”
I was speechless. If I had seen that, I wouldn’t have believed it either. But what hurt the most was her next statement:
“Let’s get a divorce. I’m tired of this.”
After that call, I stayed awake all night. I didn’t know how long her affair had been going on, or when our marriage began to fracture. Had I been too focused on work and neglected her? Had our daily grind driven us apart?
I don’t deny that taking my colleague to the hotel was impulsive. Even without wrongdoing, my actions could be misinterpreted. If I were in my wife’s position, I’d likely be furious too.
What haunts me most is whether that night was a coincidence, or if my absence at the hotel would have kept everything hidden.
After ten years of marriage, I believed honesty was the foundation of our relationship. Yet, in a single night, my trust crumbled.
To this day, I haven’t signed the divorce papers. Not because I’m unaffected, but because too many questions remain unanswered. Should I fight to save our marriage, or let go when trust no longer exists?
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That night, my rational mind urged me to decline, to retreat to my room, to remember the fiancé waiting for me. Yet, in that fleeting moment, curiosity and years of suppressed rebellion surged, overpowering all restraint.
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Upon hearing my boss’s call, I didn’t hesitate for a moment—I jumped on my bike and rushed over immediately.
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The subsequent events left me even more stunned.
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As I gently guided her to the edge of the bed, a sudden jolt startled us both, shattering the moment. In that instant, I couldn’t help but wonder if tonight would truly mark the beginning of something new.
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