Chapter 2

The comments section was flooded with likes and remarks from our mutual friends.

"Wow! A million-dollar bonus! When did you find such an amazing husband?"

Vivian immediately replied:

"We're just dating for now, not married yet. I won't say yes to his proposal that easily."

"He got promoted to director this year, and the company gave him the top bonus."

I remembered Kevin being promoted to director last month.

The comments were full of envy, with two from our mutual friends tagging me.

"Look at her husband! How much did yours get this year?"

Vivian replied under that comment:

"Suzanne's household has that separate finances thing, they handle their own money, it's different."

Another friend said:

"Suzanne, you're just too independent."

Vivian replied with a laughing emoji:

"That's right, Suzanne likes it that way, she thinks it's fair."

Someone else asked Vivian:

"When's the baby due? So excited!"

Vivian replied uniformly: "Thank you all! Once the baby arrives, I'll definitely treat everyone to dinner!"

My hands trembling, I scrolled through photos of Vivian's ex-boyfriends on Ins.

One back shot bore a striking resemblance to Kevin.

Another photo showed her pregnant belly, and a hand with a scar was visible.

Kevin had a scar in the same spot on his hand; it was from a lab accident during an experiment.

I'd traced that scar countless times; there was no mistaking it.

The caption beneath that photo read:

*The baby's father was overjoyed, holding her close and refusing to let go.*

My phone slipped from my grasp, falling to the floor. The screen showed a photo of the three of us, and for the first time, it felt like a cruel mockery.

Just a month ago, Vivian had told me she was pregnant.

She said the father was her jerk ex-boyfriend,

that they had broken up long ago, and she was planning to be a single mom.

I had even heartbrokenly accompanied her to the hospital for check-ups,

and covered her three thousand dollars in medical bills.

"Suzanne, you're the only one who's ever been so good to me," she had said, her eyes red-rimmed.

Now, I realized those three thousand dollars were probably just a small part of me funding someone else's child.

I turned off my phone and closed my eyes, but countless images flashed before me.

Last year, for Kevin's birthday, I gave him a two-hundred-dollar fountain pen.

He immediately reciprocated with an equally priced scarf.

Vivian, standing nearby, had said enviously, "It's so nice how you two are; you don't even have to worry about the cost when giving gifts."

Now, I guessed she was laughing at my stupidity inside.

The year before, my mother was hospitalized, and we were eighty thousand dollars short for her surgery.

I was strapped for cash and asked Kevin if he could lend it to me. He replied:

"Our principle is strictly separate finances. This will be a loan from me to you, with bank interest rates, to be repaid within three months."

I gritted my teeth and agreed.

In the end, Vivian lent me fifty thousand dollars, interest-free.

I was so grateful, I treated her to three expensive Japanese meals, each costing five hundred dollars per person.

But now, I suspected that fifty thousand was just a fraction of the money Kevin had transferred to her.

I dragged myself home, prepared a lavish dinner, and waited for him to come back so I could confront him.

In our five years of marriage, Kevin and I had always been 'respectful and formal,' a couple admired by outsiders.

I held a sliver of hope, wishing he'd tell me it was a coincidence, hoping he could give me an explanation.

At midnight, Kevin's call came in.

"Suzanne, I have to work overtime tonight. I won't be back for dinner."