After three years of marriage, I believed I had the perfect family. My wife, Sarah, was gentle and caring, and our son was bright and adorable. On a rare day when I finished work early, I arrived home to find Sarah asleep, slumped tiredly by the crib. My heart went out to her, and I decided to carry her to our bedroom.

As I approached, Sarah's phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared: “Sarah, is our son asleep?"

Finally, I was promoted.

After years of hard work, I became the department head today.

The tedious tasks wouldn't be my responsibility anymore.

I would have more time to watch Ethan grow and share the burden of managing our household.

After handing over my old duties, I could leave work early for once.

A content smile appeared on my face as I thought of Sarah alone at home with our son.

On my way home, I stopped by the florist to buy her favorite roses, eager to share the good news.

When I arrived, I found Sarah asleep by Ethan's crib, showing signs of fatigue.

Our son sat quietly in his stroller, playing with a toy truck.

I placed the flowers aside and tiptoed over, about to lift her when her iPhone screen suddenly lit up with a notification.

I knew her passcode, but we had always trusted each other and never checked each other's phones.

Yet somehow, I found myself tapping the screen. The message read: "Sarah, what's our son doing now?"

I froze, briefly wondering if I had sent it and her phone was just slow to receive it.

But the unfamiliar profile picture, contact name, and screen full of intimate chats shattered that foolish hope.

Sarah and I met at university.

After five years of dating, we married soon after graduation.

I was an orphan, but Sarah said she didn't care about my background or wealth, marrying me despite her family's objections.

Feeling indebted, I vowed to work hard and give her a better life.

That first year, I was consumed with work and neglected Sarah, resulting in the loss of our first child – a girl.

It took three years before we welcomed Ethan.

Knowing how difficult the pregnancy was on Sarah, I threw myself even deeper into work.

I completed every task without complaint, covered for colleagues, skipped meals, and worked overtime.

Due to overworking, I was hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer multiple times, all for the sake of hefty bonuses.

My physical appearance suffered from years of overtime work and unhealthy eating habits, far from my days as a "best-looking college heartthrob." Now, I resembled more of a paunchy, middle-aged man.

Looking at my sleeping wife, I forced myself to stay calm.

With trembling hands, I scrolled through her phone and made a startling discovery. There was an unfamiliar messaging app on her device, and it had only one contact labeled as "Dear Hubby."

How ironic.

Throughout our eight years together, she had always referred to me as "Damien." The times she called me "hubby" were few and far between, but they held significant value for me.

One time was after our engagement.

I had finally saved enough for a down payment and planned to buy a house near my office, which would serve as our marital home.

However, Sarah disagreed. She and her family took turns trying to convince me otherwise, carefully analyzing the pros and cons.

In the end, I ended up buying the small, old apartment her parents had lived in for twenty years.

Meanwhile, her parents used the money from selling me their place to buy a spacious new condo with a river view.

At that time, Sarah nestled in my arms, sweetly calling me "hubby."

She said this apartment was in the best school district, ensuring our future children would receive an excellent education.

As we planned our future together, my heart was filled with warmth and anticipation.

I thought the old place wasn't so bad – it had character. It was just further from work, but I figured I'd work harder and buy a car to make the commute easier.

The other time was shortly after her miscarriage.

Her younger brother was getting married, and he needed $600,000 for the wedding.

Her parents had spent all their money on their new apartment.

She asked me to help cover her brother's wedding expenses.

Still recovering, she lay pale-faced in bed, her big eyes misty with pleading as she looked at me.

She called me "hubby" in the gentlest voice I'd ever heard from her.

Out of guilt and love for my wife, I kept quiet about pushing myself sick at work events.

I took out all the bonus money I'd earned from that project and added it to my car savings, barely scraping together enough.

Except for those two times, she always called me "Damien" with a cool detachment.

I had always thought that because her parents favored her brother, she lacked security and struggled to express her feelings, loving in a reserved way.

But it turns out she can express her feelings after all.

Her passionate messages with this "Darling Hubby" made me blush.

If I weren't her legal spouse, I'd think this was such a happy family of three.

In the chat history, my wife shared with another man Ethan's first smile, first crawl, and first time calling someone "Dada."

These were precious moments of our son's growth that I had deeply regretted missing.

My mind was in chaos as I looked at these photos now.

Glancing at the well-behaved Ethan nearby, I realized the son I once thought looked just like me actually didn't resemble me at all.

Children are very perceptive.

Ethan noticed my gaze, which was so different from his usually doting father's, even a bit frightening. His lips quivered, about to cry. Familiar with his moods, I quickly picked him up and held him close.

Seeing Sarah's brow furrow, showing signs of waking, I hurriedly marked the messages as unread and put the phone back.

"Mmm, you're home," Sarah mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Seeing me holding Ethan, she quickly got up and took him from me. "You must be tired. There's leftover lasagna in the fridge if you want to eat."

She had always been like this, very reluctant for me to have contact with Ethan, as if afraid he might become closer to me.

I used to think she was being considerate, not wanting me to deal with childcare after a hard day's work.

"I've already eaten. I'm a bit tired today, so I'll go rest now."

I didn't know what expression to wear to face her and Ethan anymore.

Afraid of giving myself away, I retreated to the bedroom.

Late that night, while Sarah and Ethan slept soundly, I laid in bed, unable to sleep.

As I reflected on the years Sarah and I spent together, it was hard to believe that it was all a lie.

Throughout our time together, she never complained about my late nights at work or countless unavoidable business dinners.

Whenever I felt like giving up, I would think about how understanding she was and use that as motivation to work harder, feeling indebted to her.

But now I realized that she never loved me at all.

She didn't care if I came home or who I dined with because she didn't love me.

She purposely ignored the strong smell of whiskey on me every night and how weak I looked after coughing up blood because she didn't love me.

Fueled by this realization, I quietly got out of bed.

I took Sarah's iPhone and backed up all the chat history onto my own device.

Then, I accessed "Darling Hubby's" account to investigate further.

It was likely that he was using an alternate account too. The profile picture was blank, and the name was simply "ZL".

His timeline consisted solely of photos of Ethan, with no other useful information.

After closing the messaging app, I checked Sarah's bank statements and discovered monthly transfers from this ZL, ranging from $30,000 to $50,000.

Upon seeing a balance of over $2.8 million in her account, I cursed myself for being such a fool.

Ha... Sarah was incredibly wealthy.

No wonder she looked down on the few hundred thousand I had scrimped and saved over the years.

Suppressing my bitterness, I also took photos of the transfer records.

The next morning, I followed my routine and made breakfast for both of us.

Before leaving, I suddenly turned to Sarah and said, "Oh, Sarah, can your brother repay that money now? I ran into an old high school friend the other day. He has a great investment opportunity I'd like to try."

"If it's difficult, even $500,000 would suffice for now," I added.

As soon as I finished speaking, I noticed Sarah's expression turn cold.

Before she could respond, I interjected, "I'm running late for work. Don't forget to inform your brother. I have to go."

Once outside, I let out a long, frustrated sigh. Sarah's brother was utterly useless.

I have continuously cleaned up his messes throughout the years.

Getting money back from him was impossible.

I wondered if Sarah would dip into her own savings or sacrifice her "beloved" brother if I insisted on retrieving the money.

Or perhaps she would lower herself, sweetly calling me "hubby," and ask me to figure something out on my own?

When I returned home that evening, I found Sarah's parents seated together on the living room sofa. Peter and Lucy barely acknowledged my presence as I entered. I went over to greet them.

"Hello, Mom, Dad. You're here."

Lucy glanced at me with a disdainful look and got straight to the point: "I heard you got a promotion. Didn't your salary increase?"

"You're in your thirties now, with no savings to your name. Always needing to borrow money from your brother-in-law for every little thing – you're truly hopeless," she continued. "A leopard can't change its spots. Now you want to dabble in investing? Reaching beyond your capabilities. I never approved of Sarah marrying such a useless man."

Lucy had always been harsh with me, never sugarcoating her words.

I endured much worse for the sake of Sarah. However, I was surprised that she knew about my work situation.