Chapter 2
My fingers shook so badly I could barely keep holding the phone. For a long moment, I didn’t dare tap into the account. Some instinct deep inside me kept screaming that the second I opened it, the last scraps of peace in my life would shatter for good.
But the truth was still the truth, whether I looked at it or not.
So I opened the account.
Message after message flooded the screen, along with endless photos of that baby and videos that made my stomach turn. The people in those videos were Molly and Wyatt.
I scrolled through the chat history, my chest tightening so hard I could barely breathe.
Their son had been deliberately born on Lily’s birthday.
The exact same day.
Molly had sent Wyatt a voice message in a syrupy tone, whining that she wanted all of his attention for her and their son, that he wasn’t allowed to split any of it with “those two.”
Those two.
That was how she referred to me and my daughter.
And all at once, I remembered Lily’s birthday that year. I had held her in my arms and waited at home for Wyatt to come back so we could light the candles together. We waited until Lily fell asleep on the couch in her little party dress, still clutching the plastic tiara she wanted to wear for Daddy.
He never came.
He never called.
And when I kept calling him, he never picked up.
Later, Frank had told me there was an emergency at work and Wyatt had to handle it.
An emergency.
Now I knew what that emergency really was.
His mistress had gone into labor.
His son had been born.
I stopped feeling pain for a second. Instead, I wanted to laugh.
I kept scrolling.
Molly sent him another message: Husband, why does that woman get to live in a better house than me? Her place is bigger than mine by five hundred square feet.
Wyatt replied after a long pause, That house was bought by her parents before marriage. It’s Laura and Lily’s premarital asset. This one is the house I bought myself. It’s different.
I stared at the screen and almost laughed again.
The house Molly was living in was the one Wyatt and I had purchased after marriage.
Half the down payment had come from a loan from my parents.
The other half had come from our marital savings.
And back then, I was still working. Most of those “marital savings” had come from my commissions and bonuses.
I kept reading, and suddenly the timeline in my head started rearranging itself into something ugly and crystal clear.
Right around the time Molly’s son was about to be born, Wyatt had suddenly started saying the school district in our neighborhood wasn’t good enough. He suggested a fake divorce. He told me the premarital home would stay with me, while the marital home should be assigned to him so he could qualify to buy a second property near a better school district for Lily.
At the time, I had already been a stay-at-home mom for a while. I was cut off from the world, exhausted all the time, buried in childcare and chores. When he started talking about school zones and Lily’s future, I had actually felt grateful.
I had thought, finally, he cares about our daughter.
So I agreed.
After the divorce was finalized, he never bought that second house. He kept saying he was still researching neighborhoods, still comparing school districts, still waiting for the right opportunity so we wouldn’t get scammed. He dragged remarriage out again and again.
Because I trusted him. Because I was busy drowning in the thousand tiny demands of everyday life. Because I was stupid.
And after the divorce, he told me that house had been rented out, and that the rental income was being saved as retirement money for his mother.
Now I knew the truth.
That house had become the golden nest where he hid his mistress.
I looked at the messages where Wyatt and Molly mocked me for being gullible, and for the first time in years, I genuinely wanted to slap myself.
So I did.
The sound cracked in the silent office.
Then I kept reading.
On Wyatt’s birthday, I had gotten up before sunrise, spent the entire day cooking a full table of dishes, baked him a cake, decorated the apartment, and even asked Lily to make him a card. We were tight on money, or so I thought, but I still forced myself to buy him a designer briefcase because he’d mentioned one months earlier.
That same day, he had taken Molly and their son to a family photoshoot.
Lily’s handmade birthday card for him had been given to that little boy as a toy and torn to pieces.
The briefcase I bought had been resold by Molly on a secondhand app.
Wyatt had texted her: Use the money to buy some lingerie. The shaping kind. It’ll look good on camera when we film next time.
Molly had replied with a laughing emoji and asked, Aren’t you even a little guilty? Your wife saved up forever to buy that bag.
And Wyatt answered: In my heart, you’re the real wife. She’s just dead weight I haven’t been able to shake off yet.
That was the moment the tears finally came.
But the messages that followed made my blood run cold.
Molly kept pushing him about my premarital house. She wanted that one too. She said she didn’t care how he did it.
Then, three days later, Wyatt finally caved.
He sent her: I’ve thought of a way. Don’t be mad anymore.
And then he wrote the sentence that made my hands go numb.
If something happens to Laura, the house will go to Lily. I’ll be Lily’s guardian. Once that happens, moving into that house will be easy.
Molly replied with a row of laughing emojis and called him brilliant.
I didn’t realize I was crying until tears started falling onto the phone screen.
I cried for myself.
For Lily.
For my parents, who had given us their love and money and trust.
Then I slowly exited the app and stood up.
All my life, I had tried to be a good person.
But if someone used my goodness as a weapon against me, then I would return the favor twice over.
I stayed in the office in a daze until it was time to leave.
On the drive home, I passed a shopping mall and suddenly remembered how much Lily loved the plush store there. She always stood outside the display window staring at the giant bunnies and soft cats, but every single toy cost more than I thought I could justify.
I used to tell myself we needed to save money for the second house.
So every time Lily looked at those stuffed animals with shining eyes, I dragged her away and told her maybe next time.
This time, I turned the car around and pulled into the parking garage.
I went straight into the store and bought several plush animals.
I paid with Wyatt’s WeChat wallet without hesitation.
The balance in his account stabbed at my eyes like needles.
Every day, he told me he’d already handed over all his salary for family expenses and barely had any money left for himself. But there was a huge amount sitting in his account, more than enough to make a mockery of every sacrifice I’d made.
At the office that morning, if I hadn’t heard people congratulating him, I wouldn’t even have known he’d been promoted and gotten a raise.
I had been trapped at home for so long, curled up inside the cocoon of domestic life, that I had no idea my husband had climbed the ladder, built a second family, and was probably already preparing to kick me out for good.
I let out a cold laugh and headed upstairs.
I bought Lily new toys, new clothes, whatever I knew she had secretly wanted. I also bought my parents a stack of premium health supplements I had never dared to spend money on before.
My phone rang.
Wyatt.
“I already picked Lily up,” he said. “Why aren’t you home yet? I don’t know how to make soup. Just come home and do it.”
I smiled at the bitterness in my throat.
When he was courting me, he used to make soup for me in a different style every day.
Now all I asked was one bowl for his daughter, and suddenly it was impossible.
I kept my voice gentle.
“Then don’t make it. I’m still handling client follow-up. If this goes wrong, it’ll affect your performance review. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
He fell silent for a second, then asked carefully, “Nothing happened today, right? Frank didn’t say anything weird to you?”
“No,” I said lightly. “I was too busy dealing with clients to chat all day. Just keep an eye on Lily for me, okay, honey?”
After hanging up, I drove straight to the house Wyatt and I had bought after marriage.
I wanted to see exactly how he had hidden his mistress.