We dated for four years in college and got married three years after graduating. I am the middle child in a wealthy family. I have an outstanding older sister and a spoiled younger brother. I was well-behaved, quiet, and unassuming, almost invisible in my own home. My parents were busy, and we rarely ate together or had heart-to-heart conversations.

Perhaps because of this, I never developed the haughtiness often associated with rich kids. I learned to be independent from a young age, taking care of myself and knowing how to be considerate and yielding. And these qualities made him fall in love with me.

He, on the other hand, came from a rural background and lacked a solid foundation, but he had the drive to succeed. He knew exactly what he wanted and needed. To him, his career was paramount. And I, someone who could help him fast-track his career, was a choice driven by both love and logic.

We met in college. (Illustration)

My family bore the brunt of our wedding expenses. His family’s contribution was minimal, and their attendance was more of a formality. My parents also bought the house we lived in, with the deed in both our names. He only had to pay a small portion. Even the car he used for work was a wedding gift from my father.

I never kept score or held these things against him. I loved him, and I believed that as husband and wife, everything was shared between us.

After our wedding, he threw himself into his work. He climbed the corporate ladder quickly and is now a manager at a large company. I, on the other hand, took on a less demanding job to have more time for our family. I didn’t fault him for his long hours, his silence, or the many nights I ate dinner alone or tended to him when he came home drunk.

I saw myself as his wife, his supporter, and his rock. I loved him quietly and steadfastly. Until one day, I sent a text to the wrong person…

It was pouring rain that day, and I was alone in our spacious home, a little scared because of the thunder and lightning. I intended to text my best friend:

– My husband is away on a business trip. I’m home alone, and it’s pouring outside. I’m scared.

But I accidentally sent the message to my husband. Instead of receiving words of comfort or concern, he replied with a photo of himself and another woman in bed, without any explanation.

I was stunned when I received his reply. (Illustration)

I was stunned. In that moment, everything I believed in and held dear for the past four years came crashing down. I once thought I was lucky to have married such an ambitious man. But now, I realized he was capable of betraying me without an ounce of remorse.

The next day, he returned home, his demeanor as calm as if nothing had happened. I didn’t say much; I just silently showed him the photo. He stared at it for a long time and then sighed, his voice indifferent as he spoke:

– It’s not what you think… it was an accident.

I asked him:

– How is this an accident? You were in bed with another woman, and you took a picture and sent it to me. Was that a coincidence?

He fell silent for a moment, then reluctantly explained that it was a party after finalizing a deal with a partner. They plied him with alcohol, set everything up, and trapped him. He asserted:

– I don’t know who took the photo or who had my phone to send that picture to you, or when and why they did it. After sending it to you, they deleted the photo, so my message didn’t show up in the thread. But I swear, I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re the only one for me.

I sat there, feeling hollow. I didn’t know if he was cheating on me or not. If it was a trap, why did he fall for it so easily? If he was a victim, why wasn’t he angry or worried? What should I do? Should I let it go or investigate further?

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