
For two years I knew my husband was cheating, yet every night I cooked and poured him wine — just to carry out a plan…
During that time, I gritted my teeth and endured. I played the role of the clueless, naive wife, letting him shamelessly put horns on my head without realizing that I knew. All of it — just for a plan.
Perhaps what I regret most now was listening to my husband and quitting my job, staying home only to bear children and cook. That decision was what pushed my life onto this path.
I married at 25. At that time, I was a young, eager office worker. But my husband was already a successful man. After our wedding, when I became pregnant, he suggested that I quit my job and stay home to take care of the baby. He said he could provide for me and our child, give us a comfortable life. Naively, I thought I was luckier than most women. I even felt proud in front of my friends for marrying a wealthy man, not having to work, living a carefree life at home while being supported. So I quit my job and began life confined within our luxurious apartment.
After giving birth, I stayed home to care for the baby. Before our first child even grew, I was pregnant again with the second… And just like that, more than five years of my youth passed, buried in diapers and milk bottles. My husband earned the money, so even though I didn’t work, he could still provide everything for us. I thought I was happy, luckier than others.
Until one day, I discovered he was having an affair. In fact, he had been doing it for a long time — I had just been too busy with the children to notice. That day, I had gone to visit my parents but came back unexpectedly. That was how I overheard his phone call with his mistress.
In that call, he belittled me as just a woman who only knew how to eat and give birth. He said my body was now “worn out,” that he was sick of me, but wouldn’t leave because of the two kids. He was with that beautiful woman as a way to “balance” life with a wife like me.
My knees nearly buckled hearing those cruel, contemptuous words from the man I married. At first, I wanted to explode, confront him, demand answers. But after calming down, I realized that would not be wise. After the outburst, I would only be the one to lose. He would either abandon me and I’d be left with nothing, or I’d have to tolerate his affair and live like a servant in this family.
So I thought it over and finally decided to play deaf and blind. I never questioned him about where he went or what he did. Every night, I prepared lavish meals with fine wine. At dinner, I praised him endlessly. He was thrilled, smug. He made calls to his mistress right in our home, and I pretended not to hear. He grew even more pleased, thinking himself a man lucky enough to have both a mistress and a submissive, adoring wife.
Those were days I swallowed my tears. I endured the humiliation and pain, acting the fool beside him. For the future of myself and my children, I wouldn’t allow myself to lose my temper.
Nearly two years passed like that. I lived as the gentle, obedient wife, pampering him every night. Until the day I finally had everything I needed.
That day, I placed the divorce papers on the table and took my two children back to my parents’ house. He sneered and said:
“So you knew I had someone else? You tried to win me back but failed, so now you want a divorce? Think carefully. You’re no longer young, you have two kids, no career, not a cent to your name… how will you survive? If you’re smart, just stay. I’ll give you money, close your eyes and live comfortably — isn’t that better?”
At that moment, I looked him straight in the face and revealed everything. For nearly two years, I had endured humiliation just so I could get him drunk every night. When he was wasted and unaware, I made him sign every kind of authorization for me to handle bank procedures. With his signature, I withdrew all the money from the savings accounts and sent it to my mother. I had also secured documents for other valuable assets, all with his signed authorization, giving me control.
I wasn’t greedy. But he betrayed me first. I would never let myself and my children be left with nothing. I had once thought of forgiving him and trying to bring him back, but a man like him never saw me as his wife and never intended to stop. This was the final price he had to pay.
I walked away from that house, determined to learn how to live as an independent woman and to step forward on my own.
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