Leaving the Cheater in the Dust

I endured hundreds of injections just to give Stanley Brighton a child. He was moved to tears and held me, promising that even if we couldn't have children, he would love only me.

I diligently followed the doctor's advice and underwent treatment. The day I confirmed my pregnancy, I was so excited that I wanted to rush home and share the good news with Stanley.

But what awaited me was unimaginable. Stanley and the female tenant we shared the apartment with were lying naked together in the bathroom, sharing an intimate bath.

He was behind her, holding her close, his lips incessantly biting at her earlobes.

"I'll give you as many children as you want! Ten, eight—whatever it takes! Just divorce her!"

"Alright, just give me some time. I'll divorce her for sure!"

Hearing their whispered entanglement, I turned away, stepping into the rain, determined to leave.

I would disappear to a place where Stanley could never find me, not in this lifetime.

As I opened the door and stepped out, a wave of decadent, lingering sounds drifted from the room behind me.

My face burned with anger, but I didn't look back. Instead, I walked straight to the stairwell. It was time to buy a bus ticket to leave here.

By the time I returned, an hour had passed. I let out a long sigh, inserted the key, and opened the door.

The bathroom was empty, but when I stepped inside, there it was—a delicate lace underwear, pale and soft, discarded on the floor. A foul, musky odor clung to it.

"Darling, you're back?"

His voice reached me just as I stood frozen in place.

"Time for another herbal moxibustion session? Don't worry, even if we can't have children, I'll love you forever," Stanley said.

The next moment, I heard the bedroom door creak open. Stanley shuffled over to me and wrapped me in his arms. His gaze fell on the table where the moxibustion tools were laid out. With a pained expression, he kissed my forehead.

I entered the room, lying face down, and asked him to light the moxa stick and press it against the small of my back. My head turned slightly, eyes closing as I stared toward the window.

"I want you."

A voice interrupted the silence. Our tenant, Nancy Green had entered the room at some point, wrapping her arms around Stanley from behind and exhaling lightly into his ear.

Stanley's hand gripped her waist briefly before he pushed her aside, gesturing toward me.

"She's asleep. Doesn't the moxibustion always make her drowsy? There's sleeping herbs in it, isn't there? Come here."

Through the mirror on the wall, I saw everything. From where I lay, the reflection laid it bare—their sordid actions unfolding in plain view.

Nancy took Stanley's hand and pressed it to her chest, then straddled his lap without hesitation. She glanced at me, as if testing whether I was truly asleep. Hearing my steady breathing, she buried her chest against Stanley's