He Helped a Woman, I Helped Him Fall

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media.

The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?"

One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course."

"Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?"

I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply.

"There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three.

"My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread."

Feeling disgusted, I close the thread.

…

The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her.

Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."

I looked at the woman standing outside the car. She had slightly curly hair that fell to her waist, and her makeup was exquisite. She had also doused herself in so much perfume that I felt like I was choking on the overwhelming scent.

She didn't look poor at all.

My husband, Sean Clifford, looked a little troubled as he glanced at me. "Sorry, but my wife and I are on our honeymoon trip. We just got married, so it would be inconvenient for us to bring you along."

The woman's demeanor turned even weaker and vulnerable, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. "I won't bother you, sir. I'll just sit quietly in the backseat and keep to myself.

"I've been waiting here for more than three hours. Your car is the only one that has passed by in that time. I won't know what to do if you don't help me. I don't want to spend the night here by myself."

I looked at the road we were on. It did look a little desolate.

Sean turned to look at him. "The sun is going to set soon, Maria," he said in a softened voice. "Leaving a young woman like her out in the wilderness like this…"

He let the rest of his sentence trail off into silence, but I understood what he was trying to say. "Get in the car," I told the woman.

A joyous expression appeared on the woman's face. She was about to pull open the backseat's door when she suddenly paused. She then ran over to the driver's side, where Sean was sitting. "I've had motion sickness ever since I was a child, sir. Can I sit in the front passenger's seat?"

Anger began to simmer within me. I assumed that Sean would reject her request and was caught off guard when