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1:1 Five years ago, when I told my husband, who loved me more than his life, that I was pregnant, I expected him to burst into tears of joy. Instead, he just held my hand, a look of guilt in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Evelyn, but I'm not ready to be a father yet. Can we please think about having kids in a few more years?" My heart ached, but for the sake of our marriage, I did as he asked and went to the clinic to take care of it. But then, five years later, I accidentally saw my husband holding another woman's hand, picking up a little girl from an elite private preschool on Manhattan's Upper East Side. He lifted the little girl over his head, a wide smile on his face, and said softly, "Our Luna is five years old today. How about Daddy gives you the trust fund for the sole heir of Sterling Enterprises as your birthday present?" I stood under the awning of a café across the street, watching the three of them walk toward a black sedan, feeling as if I'd been plunged into an icy abyss. So, it wasn't that he wasn't ready to be a father. He just didn't want a child with me. ... That evening, my husband, Alexander Sterling, returned to our estate in Westchester. Seeing my swollen, tear-filled eyes, he didn't even bother to take off his leather shoes, striding across the foyer to pull me into his arms, his voice filled with concern. "What's wrong, my love? Who bullied my Evelyn? Tell me, and I'll have my lawyers deal with them." The calm I had just managed to find was shattered by his words, and tears streamed down my face again. Everyone in New York's high society knew that Alexander, the current CEO of Sterling Enterprises, doted on his wife. Shortly after we got married, to give me a complete sense of security, he replaced all the female executive assistants in his office with men. He always FaceTimed me to check in when he had business dinners at exclusive clubs. When a long-time Wall Street partner tried to set him up with a female companion at a yacht party, he mercilessly withdrew his investment and cut all ties with the man. The extent of Alexander's love for me was clear for all to see. Seeing me cry, Alexander's brow furrowed, and he gently wiped away my tears with his thumb. "Evelyn, what on earth happened? Please tell me. You crying like this is breaking my heart." I looked into his gray-blue eyes, which were filled with concern, and the questions swirled on the tip of my tongue. But in the end, I just shook my head and said slowly, "It's nothing. I just watched a sad movie on a streaming service today and couldn't help but cry." Alexander visibly relaxed and kissed my forehead lovingly. "You scared me to death!" "Have you had dinner yet? I'll cook for you tonight. How about your favorite slow-cooked beef short ribs?" I nodded gently, letting Alexander lead me to the island in our open-plan kitchen. I watched him expertly take off his suit jacket, roll up his shirt sleeves, and start preparing the ingredients, but my mind kept replaying the scene I had witnessed at the preschool that afternoon. Alexander holding that little blonde girl, smiling. Five years old. If I hadn't ended my pregnancy, my child would have been five this year, too. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and just then, the phone on the marble countertop vibrated. Alexander answered, his tone more serious than I had ever heard it. "Didn't I tell you not to call my personal number after work hours?" Even from a distance, I could clearly hear the woman's voice on the other end. "I'm sorry, Alexander, I know I shouldn't be bothering you and your wife right now. But Luna is crying, she wants Daddy to blow out her birthday candles with her. She won't stop, and I didn't know what else to do." "I know how important your wife is to you, but you've never spent a full birthday with Luna. Could you please..." 2:2 I didn't hear the rest. Alexander hung up, turned off the oven, and turned away from the counter. He looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Evelyn. There's an urgent merger at the company that I have to handle. I need to go back to Manhattan." A chill ran through me, and my throat felt tight. After a long moment, I managed to ask, "Do you have to go?" "Yes." He grabbed his suit jacket, quickly putting it on. Before he left, he turned back to me. "Have the butler ask the private chef to whip something up for you. I'll be back soon, and I'll finish making that dish for you then." Listening to the roar of his sports car fading into the distance, I curled up on the high stool in the kitchen, hugging myself tightly as tears fell once again. After what felt like an eternity, an iMessage from Alexander popped up on my phone. "Evelyn, the merger has hit a tricky legal snag. I might not be able to make it home tonight. You should get some rest, don't wait up for me." "I had my assistant order delivery for you from your favorite Michelin-starred French restaurant. Eat and then go to sleep." I stared blankly at the screen, reading the message over and over, feeling like I couldn't breathe. Alexander had left me to be with another woman and her child. The man who had sworn he loved me more than life itself had changed, secretly starting another family behind my back. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. With a trembling hand, I picked up my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I've decided to accept the director position at the Frankfurt branch." My mother had never approved of my decision to give up my career after getting married. She had suggested many times that I go to Germany to take over the family business's branch there. But back then, I was drowning in the web of lies Alexander had spun. I truly believed that his love was all I needed, that I could be a full-time housewife forever. I didn't want to be an ocean away from him, so I refused without a second thought. I never imagined that after only five years, my supposedly perfect marriage would become a complete and utter joke. In that case, Alexander, I don't want you anymore. As I spoke, my mother on the other end in Europe was stunned for a moment, then, as if realizing something, she hesitated. "Didn't you and Alexander plan to try for a baby again in a couple of years? I thought you wanted to focus on your family." "Besides, with your husband's personality... he nearly got into a fistfight with a customer at a Brooklyn farmer's market just for criticizing your handicrafts. Do you really think he'd let his precious wife go off to struggle alone in the European business world?" Hearing my mother's confusion, I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. Yes, in the high society of New York, everyone knew I was Alexander's most cherished wife. He wouldn't let me suffer the slightest bit of hardship, a fact so well-known that even my mother across the Atlantic believed it without a doubt. That incident was two years ago. With no child and no job, I needed a change of pace. I picked up a hobby from my college days and started sewing handicrafts, selling them at an open-air art market in Brooklyn every weekend to clear my head. I never told Alexander, not wanting to bore him. I just said I was out shopping with my girlfriends. The bustling weekend market slowly brought a sense of down-to-earth reality back into my life. Until one Sunday, a rude middle-aged man named Brian tried to haggle by constantly finding fault with the dolls I had sewn myself. He even insulted my work. I never expected that Alexander, who happened to be passing by, would hear everything. He didn't care that a tabloid reporter might snap a picture of a CEO brawling in the street. Without a second thought, he rushed over and punched the man. They fought so fiercely that the NYPD had to be called. In the end, Alexander's legal team stepped in and paid a hefty settlement to make the problem go away. And all of that was just because Alexander couldn't stand to see my efforts belittled, couldn't bear to see me suffer even the tiniest bit of hurt. After that, Alexander and I made a deal. I would stop selling my things at the market, and he would stop getting into fights. But this was the same man, the one who seemed to love me to the bone, who ended up cheating on me, choosing another woman's child to inherit the business empire he had worked so hard to build. 3:3 Shaking my head, I pushed those phony memories aside and said with finality, "Mom, I'm not having a baby anymore. And I'm not going to be Mrs. Sterling anymore either." I quietly lowered the volume on my phone. After all, I was the one who had ignored my family's objections, given up my spot at a top-tier law school, and insisted on staying in New York to marry Alexander. I was the one who had willingly become a housewife, lost in a romantic fantasy. I had expected my mother to scold me for being impulsive, for wanting to upend my life again, or maybe to sarcastically remind me of my past foolishness. But instead, she just let out a knowing, bitter laugh. "It's good that you've finally seen the light." "You're still young. Even if you took a wrong turn, it's not too late to start over." "I'll have the office in Frankfurt arranged for you. Just let me know when you've packed and booked your flight, and I'll send a driver to pick you up from the airport." A moment later, my mother wired me fifteen thousand dollars as a moving and settling-in fund. After a few brief pleasantries, she hung up. I looked at the deposit notification on my banking app and glanced at the time at the top of the screen. It was already one in the morning. Alexander still wasn't back. He hadn't sent another message, and there wasn't a single missed call from him. This was the third time this month he had stayed out all night "for work." Before we got married, Alexander found out I had severe claustrophobia and was terrified of being alone in large, empty houses. To ease my fears and give me a sense of security, he swore to me that no matter where he was or what deal he was closing, he would be back at the estate before midnight. He promised he would never let me face the darkness alone and afraid. For years, Alexander kept his promise, never once breaking his word. To get home early every day, he, the CEO, even made a rule at the company: no matter who the Wall Street titan was, business dinners had to end by ten. Once, a tech mogul from Silicon Valley named Nathan had a bit too much to drink and offered to give Alexander an extra three percent on an upcoming funding round if he'd stay out with him at an exclusive club until the early hours. Faced with a profit of tens of millions of dollars, Alexander turned him down flat. His reason: "I have to go home to my wife." The mogul, feeling publicly humiliated, angrily threatened to cancel their partnership. Alexander didn't even look back, simply telling his driver to head back to Westchester. For a while after that, Sterling Enterprises was smeared by the business media, and our stock price took a hit. A financial journalist named Derek, stirring the pot, asked Alexander during an interview if he regretted his power play. Alexander just smiled at the camera. "Even a Wall Street crash isn't as important as me going home to my wife." At that time, I thought I was the luckiest woman in all of New York, that I had truly married my soulmate. But as it turned out, a man's promises are nothing more than beautifully packaged bubbles. They can't stand the test of time, and they certainly can't resist temptation. One poke, and they pop. Until I discovered his secret with that other woman today, I was still trying to hypnotize myself, telling myself that maybe Alexander was just too busy with pressure from the board and had lost track of time. But now I see it clearly. He wasn't too busy with work to come home. He was just on time for his other appointment, at his other "home." With that thought, I stopped waiting for him like a fool. I went back to the master bedroom and, for the first time, fell asleep alone in our vast, empty bed. 4:4 As expected. When I woke up the next day, the pillow next to me was still perfectly smooth. Alexander not only stayed out all night, but he didn't even offer a single word of explanation. But maybe because my heart had turned completely to ice, I didn't even feel the urge to throw a tantrum. I just calmly got ready, drove to the consulate in Manhattan, and applied for an expedited German work visa. The expedited visa would take five days. Thinking about the upcoming autumn weather in Germany, I decided to go to a high-end department store on Fifth Avenue to buy a few trench coats. But as I stepped onto the escalator, my body froze. I stared intently at the women's shoe department on the second floor. Not far away, Alexander was kneeling on one knee, patiently helping a little girl try on a pair of designer children's shoes. And the woman standing beside him was the same one I had seen at the preschool yesterday. The moment our eyes met, a flicker of panic crossed Alexander's face, and his hand, holding the shoe, froze in mid-air. But in less than two seconds, he regained his usual calm and gentle demeanor. He stood up and walked towards me. "Evelyn, what a coincidence. You're shopping here too?" He turned slightly, gesturing to the woman behind him, and introduced her casually. "This is my new executive assistant, Vanessa. I'm helping her pick out a gift for an important client's daughter." I followed his gesture and saw a young woman in her early twenties, exquisitely dressed and clearly having had some cosmetic work done. She had a stunning figure, and you would never guess she was the mother of a five-year-old. I let out a small laugh. "I had no idea your executive assistants were women again." Alexander's expression stiffened for a moment. He must have just remembered that years ago, to fulfill his promise of making me feel secure, he had personally ordered the dismissal of all his experienced female assistants. From then on, his office only hired men, and he even forbade any female executives from meeting with him alone in his office. But now, here he was, shamelessly shopping with another woman on Fifth Avenue, even kneeling like a doting father to put shoes on her child. Compared to Alexander's discomfort, Vanessa immediately flashed a perfect professional smile and extended a hand with a flawless manicure. "Mrs. Sterling, a pleasure to meet you. I've often heard Alexander... I mean, Mr. Sterling, speak of you." "I just joined the company. Mr. Sterling knew I was a single mother struggling in New York, and he promoted me to be his executive assistant so I could earn a better salary and hire a reliable nanny for my child." "I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity Mr. Sterling and the company have given me. I will work even harder to repay his kindness." Despite my upbringing, which drilled all the social graces into me, I didn't extend my hand to shake hers. My gaze fell on the diamond ring on her left ring finger-it was an exact custom-made duplicate of the one on my own hand. The sight of it was so absurd I could have laughed out loud. When we got engaged, Alexander flew to Europe and paid a fortune to hire a world-renowned jewelry designer to create my ring. He proposed to me on top of the Rockefeller Center, telling me with deep emotion that a one-of-a-kind love deserved a one-of-a-kind Evelyn. I never thought that ring would no longer be one-of-a-kind, and that I would no longer be the only one standing by his side. 5:5 I coldly tore my eyes away, about to turn and leave. But then, the little blonde girl ran up to Alexander and hugged his leg, sweetly calling out, "Daddy." My heart clenched painfully. Vanessa stepped in at the right moment to "correct" her. "Luna, didn't Mommy teach you not to call just anyone Daddy? Say, Uncle Alexander." She emphasized the words "Uncle Alexander," clearly sending me a message. Luna glanced at me shyly, then reluctantly corrected herself. "Uncle Alexander." Then she tugged on his pants, whining, "Uncle Alexander, the toy store over there is having a parent-child event, and the grand prize is a limited-edition teddy bear. Luna wants it. Can you and Mommy team up with me?" Just then, a few socialites from the Upper East Side, women I often had afternoon tea with, happened to walk by. Hearing Luna's words, they stopped and covered their mouths, giggling. "Looks like the little girl is in for a disappointment. In our circle, everyone knows Mr. Sterling. He would never leave his own wife to join some other woman and child in a parent-child game!" The ladies' voices weren't loud, but everyone present heard them clearly. Vanessa held Luna's hand and looked at me with feigned apology, but her eyes held a hint of pitiful pleading. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Sterling. Luna has never had a father with her at school events before, so she's often teased and excluded by the other children. That's why she was so bold as to ask Mr. Sterling for this. I hope a person of your stature won't mind a child's innocent words." Hearing this, I instinctively looked at Alexander and saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes. A moment later, Alexander patted my shoulder dismissively. "Evelyn, it's just a child's wish. I'll just play along for a bit, like it's for charity. You've always been kind and generous. You can understand a child from a single-parent home, right?" He didn't even wait for me to nod. He smoothly scooped Luna into his arms and forced a gentle smile. "Let's go, princess. Uncle Alexander will win you that teddy bear!" Vanessa followed closely behind them, shooting me a triumphant, provocative look over her shoulder. The three of them walked towards the mall's event area, laughing and talking. From any angle, they looked like a happy, perfect family. The socialites who had been watching the scene unfold were all stunned. They exchanged awkward glances, then quickly scurried away with nervous laughs. 6:6 But I noticed something sharp. As they left, their gazes, once filled with envy and flattery, had transformed into undisguised pity and mockery. I knew, from that moment on, the carefully crafted image of "Alexander, the devoted husband" in Manhattan's high society had become the biggest joke of all. I bit down hard on my lip, my chest feeling as if it were being torn apart by a dull knife. The pain was so intense that my whole body trembled uncontrollably. I stood there for a long time, trying to regain my composure, before finally going to a boutique and picking out a few cashmere coats suitable for the German autumn. It was close to the heart of mainland Europe; the temperature would drop soon. As I was heading to the underground parking garage with my shopping bags, Alexander appeared from nowhere. He saw the heavy coats in my hand and frowned. "It's still summer in New York. What are you buying all these thick coats for?" I just stared at the numbers on the elevator display, not even bothering to spare him a glance. Seeing my pale face and my silence, he must have felt guilty, because he started explaining again. "Vanessa is a single mother going through a really tough time. It's incredibly difficult to survive in a place like New York with a child. As her boss, it's only right for me to show some compassion. And the only reason I made her my executive assistant is because the salary is high enough to cover Manhattan's insane rent, so she can provide a decent environment for her kid." "Evelyn, if you're really that bothered by it, I'll have HR transfer her to another department tomorrow." But I still didn't respond to his long-winded excuses. Stepping out of the department store, I watched the endless stream of yellow cabs on Fifth Avenue, then suddenly turned to him and asked calmly: "Alexander, do you remember what you said to me when we took our vows at St. Patrick's Cathedral?" "You swore before God that you would never lie to me in your life. You swore that if you did, you would lose everyone and everything you hold dear." A flash of panic crossed Alexander's face, the look of someone caught in a lie. But he quickly reached out and squeezed my fingers, putting on that deeply affectionate expression again. "Of course, I remember. Evelyn, don't worry. You know I always keep my word, don't you?" Seeing him lie so effortlessly, so convincingly, I was suddenly overwhelmed with disgust. I yanked my hand away and closed my eyes. "I'm tired." I'm tired. I'm done playing this part in your sham of a marriage. Alexander completely misunderstood, thinking I was just tired from shopping. He graciously hailed an Uber Black for me. "I have a video conference at the office soon. You take the car back to Westchester. Go home, take a nice bath, and get some rest." Listening to his considerate arrangements, I got into the back seat without a word. But as the car door closed and we drove away from Fifth Avenue, I didn't tell the driver to go back to the estate. Instead, I gave him the address of a well-known commercial building in Midtown Manhattan-the law firm of my college best friend, Hannah, one of New York's top family lawyers. "It's been a while, Hannah. I need you to draw up a divorce agreement for me." 7:7 Hannah was a titan in New York's legal circles, a renowned divorce lawyer famous for her swift and aggressive tactics. She was also one of my dearest friends. In her top-floor corner office, I calmly explained everything that had happened. She listened, holding her coffee cup, stunned into silence for a full thirty seconds before pushing her gold-rimmed glasses up her nose. "Of course, darling. But you gave up your career for him after you got married. You have no independent income. If you just split assets according to the prenuptial agreement, you could lose out badly. If you want, I can file for a substantial amount of alimony..." But I just shook my head, unconcerned. I didn't need a single cent of Alexander Sterling's money. The thought of it made me sick. Hannah was incredibly efficient. In less than an hour, a clear, concise divorce agreement, in which I would walk away with nothing, was in my email inbox. But after getting the agreement, I didn't go straight back to the estate to confront Alexander. Instead, I went to a private wealth management bank on Fifth Avenue. Five years ago, perhaps out of some lingering guilt for making me end the pregnancy, he had offered to set up a college savings plan and a trust fund in my name as a safety net for our future child. He swore he would give our child the best private education in the country. We had each deposited an initial one million dollars into that account. Since we were now parting ways for good, I naturally wanted my initial deposit back. But when the financial advisor named Carter looked up the account, he delivered a devastating blow. "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Sterling. Are you certain you don't have any other investment accounts under your name?" I frowned instantly. "Of course, I only have this one trust account." "Alexander and I came in to sign the papers together five years ago. All I need you to do now is issue me a cashier's check for my one million dollars." But at the mention of Alexander's name, the advisor's expression turned awkward and hesitant. He fidgeted for a long moment before finally wiping sweat from his brow and speaking. "Mrs. Sterling, I... I simply can't fulfill your request." My voice rose. "Why not? It's my money in this account. Don't I have the right to withdraw it?" "You're violating banking regulations!" Seeing me pull out my phone to call Hannah, the advisor quickly stood up and explained. "Mrs. Sterling, please don't misunderstand." "As a joint account holder, you certainly have the right to withdraw the funds. However, the system shows that the children's education trust you set up now has less than twelve cents remaining." "Over the past five years, Mr. Sterling has gradually transferred the two million dollars, plus interest, to his other personal accounts under the guise of 'early childhood education expenses' and 'private school donations.' As his legal wife, were you truly unaware of all this?" As I sat frozen on the leather sofa, speechless, the advisor printed out the account statements for the last five years and handed them to me. Without exception, all the funds had been funneled into a private account Alexander had set up for Vanessa and her daughter. But I had never had Alexander's child. It was painfully obvious. He had taken the money we had set aside for our future child and spent it all on his mistress, Vanessa, and her daughter, Luna, to cover their lavish Manhattan lifestyle and private school tuition. The ridiculously small balance of twelve cents left in the account felt like a resounding slap in the face, a cruel mockery of my five years of foolishness and naivety. I looked down at the custom-made diamond ring on my left ring finger, a ring that once filled me with so much pride. Now, it just made me feel sick. If he couldn't even offer the basic loyalty a marriage requires, why should I keep this broken symbol of love? 8:8 After leaving the private bank, I went straight to a high-end jewelry appraiser in the nearby Diamond District, planning to sell the wedding ring. But the appraiser examined it with his professional instruments for less than two minutes before pushing it back across the counter with a dark expression. "Ma'am, you're dressed so respectably. Why are you trying to pull a scam like this? Trying to commit insurance fraud with a fake?" His words infuriated me. "Sir, there's a limit to how low you can go with your offer!" "I was involved in every step of this ring's creation, from the cutting diagrams to sourcing the raw diamond. It was custom-made by a reclusive master craftsman in Europe. How could it possibly be a fake?" The appraiser sneered at my rebuttal and slapped a printed spectral analysis report on the counter. "European master, my ass. Scammers these days don't even bother to come up with a decent story! This thing doesn't even register on the diamond clarity scale. It's just a well-cut piece of moissanite or synthetic crystal! It's not even worth a hundred bucks!" "If you keep causing trouble here, I'm calling security and the police!" With a trembling hand, I picked up the report. In the material composition section, the word was printed clearly: Moissanite. A cheap, synthetic stone used to make imitation jewelry. But I had been part of the entire process, from design to completion. For the past five years, I had worn it constantly, never even taking it off in the shower. How could it have suddenly turned into a cheap fake? Then, my eyes widened in horror. I remembered. About a year ago, Alexander, who had never shown any interest in jewelry, suddenly suggested taking our wedding rings for a professional ultrasonic cleaning and re-polishing. He had said, with so much feeling, that he wanted our rings to be as bright and flawless as our marriage, untouched by time. Back then, I was still living in the pink bubble he had created for me. I took off the ring and gave it to him without a second thought. Normally, that kind of maintenance takes an hour or two at most. But that time, he made the excuse that his jeweler friend was too busy and kept the ring for three whole days before returning it. I believed him completely and didn't think anything of it. Connecting the dots now... no wonder Vanessa was wearing a ring identical to mine. It must have been during those three days. Alexander had someone create a one-to-one replica using moissanite. He could have given the real diamond back to me and pawned off the cheap imitation on Vanessa to keep her happy. But instead, he chose to put the real ring, the symbol of his wife, on Vanessa's finger, while giving me this worthless fake. Perhaps in his eyes, the sheltered Evelyn was just too easy to fool. The thought brought a cold, desolate laugh to my lips. So, his heart had been rotten for that long. My complete and utter trust in him had become his ultimate weapon to hurt and deceive me. If even the wedding ring, exchanged before a priest with vows of a lifetime, was a fake... Then what, in the last five years of my life, was ever real? An overwhelming sense of betrayal and nausea washed over me. I stumbled to a trash can on Fifth Avenue and retched until tears streamed down my face. Alexander, how could you be so cruel?