My Husband Took Our Child’s Tuition Money to Buy an iPhone 17 for His Mistress. I Saw It but Stayed Silent—At Midnight, When He Came Home, He Collapsed in Shock Upon Seeing…

My Husband Took Our Child’s Tuition Money to Buy an iPhone 17 for His Mistress. I Saw It but Stayed Silent—At Midnight, When He Came Home, He Collapsed in Shock Upon Seeing…

Hung and I had been married for ten years. We had a 9-year-old son. Our family wasn’t wealthy, but through hard work, we managed to cover our needs and even save a little for our child’s education. I always believed that as long as husband and wife stood together, any hardship could be overcome.

But recently, Hung changed completely. He often left early, came home late, dressed sharply, and carried the faint scent of an unfamiliar perfume. My heart ached with suspicion. I dared not accuse him of cheating, but every little thing he did made me doubt him.

That afternoon, I went to withdraw money from our savings account to pay for my son’s new semester tuition. But at the counter, the bank staff informed me the account had been emptied two days earlier. My head spun, my heart raced. Looking at the withdrawal slip, I saw Hung’s signature.

I almost called him immediately, but something stopped me. Instead, I decided to quietly observe. And indeed, that very afternoon, I saw Hung with my own eyes, walking into a phone store with a young, pretty woman. They happily picked out the brand-new iPhone 17—the most expensive model. He laughed, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and handed it over to the clerk without the slightest hesitation.

I stood frozen outside the glass window, my throat tightening. That was our son’s tuition money—every penny saved through sleepless nights of worry. And he had so carelessly squandered it on a gift for his mistress.

I could have stormed in and caused a scene. But I didn’t. I wanted him to face the consequences himself.

That night, after putting my son to bed early, I sat alone in the dark, preparing everything.

Close to midnight, the door swung open. Hung staggered inside, still wearing a faint smile. But the moment he switched on the light, he froze.

In front of him, all his clothes, documents, and even his beloved laptop had been neatly packed into a suitcase, placed in the middle of the living room. Next to it lay the divorce papers I had already signed, the bank statement of the withdrawal, and the receipt for the iPhone.

His face turned pale. He stammered:
—“What… what are you doing?”

I replied calmly:
—“Did you think I wouldn’t know? That was our son’s tuition money. You gave it to your mistress. How can you still call yourself a father?”

Hung bowed his head in silence. He reached out to hold my hand, but I pulled away.
—“My silence doesn’t mean weakness. It means I wanted you to see clearly—you’ve destroyed this marriage with your own hands.”

From the bedroom came the sound of our son turning in his sleep, blissfully unaware. My chest tightened, but I kept my voice firm:
—“I will raise our child. I will make sure he never lacks anything. As for you—if you’ve chosen this path, then walk it to the end.”

Hung collapsed into a chair, clutching his head as sweat trickled down. For the first time, I saw raw panic on his face. But it was too late.

Outside, the clock struck midnight, marking not only the start of a new day but also the end of our ten-year marriage.

I looked at the suitcase I had packed, took a deep breath. Pain lingered, but there was also relief. From this moment on, my son and I would live a life free from betrayal.

And Hung—he would be left to endure the shock, one of his own making.