After my year-end bonus came in, I immediately transferred 10,000 dollars to my husband to buy New Year’s gifts for both our parents. I even told him to get the very best, especially that case of whisky for my father.

On New Year’s Eve, I rushed home to have dinner with my parents. However, at the table that night, Dad, who had always loved his drinks, was sipping tea instead.

I was confused. “Dad, it’s the holidays. Why didn't you bring out the liquor?”

I smiled as I rose to my feet to grab the case. “Kevin went out of his way to get this. I heard it tastes amazing.”

“Don’t touch it!” Dad slammed his teacup against the floor. His face was flushed dark red.

“Zeena, don’t send this stuff anymore. I know it’s not easy for you to make money in the city. But even if our Collins family is poor, we still have our pride! People in the village are talking behind my back, saying I’m putting on airs!”

I was completely stunned. I opened the bottle and took a sip, then froze for a moment. This was not whisky at all. It was just plain water.

The dinner table fell into a dead silence.

“Sweetheart, come with me.”

Mom led me to the backyard and pushed open the storage room door. In the corner were more than a dozen neatly stacked cases of the exact same whisky. Some were damp and moldy, others were covered in cobwebs.

These were all the New Year’s gifts I had my husband, Kevin Zane, buy over the past three years.

“W-What is this?” My voice came out dry. My throat was tight.

Mom heaved a sigh. “The first year you sent them, your dad was thrilled. He even invited your uncles over to drink. But the moment the liquor was poured, everyone’s expressions changed.

“Your dad didn’t believe it. He insisted it was just his taste being off and opened another bottle, but it was the same result.”

As she spoke, tears started falling again. “After that, you kept sending liquor every holiday. Your dad was afraid you’d be hurt and was worried about your pride, so he never told you. He just hid all the bottles here and told everyone he couldn’t bear to drink them.

“People in the village have been talking behind our backs, saying now that you’ve made it in the big city, you’ve learned to buy fakes to fool even your own parents!”

My hands trembled. The bottle dug painfully into my palm.

However, Kevin had clearly told me that he got these bottles of liquor as a special supply directly from the original factory through his connections. How could they be fake? If the liquor was fake…

What about the 10,000 dollars I gave him every year? What was it actually spent on?

I took a deep breath, forcing down the urge to smash everything. I pulled out my phone and called Kevin.

“The number you have dialed has been switched off.”

Switched off?

He told me he would be on duty this year. How could his phone be off?

Then, it hit me. In the past few years, he had always said he wanted to spend more time with his parents and suggested we celebrate separately. Three years of marriage and we had never spent one New Year's together.

Back at the table, when I saw my parents’ cautious, guilty expressions, my heart twisted in pain. I forced a smile and explained, “Dad, Mom, this is on me. We tried to save money and ended up buying from an unreliable seller. We got scammed with fake goods.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a refund and make it right. I’ll get you the real thing.”

After finally settling them down to sleep, I called Kevin again. This time, he picked up.

From the other end came the sound of cards being shuffled, and a woman’s sweet, flirtatious laughter.

“I won! Pay up, pay up!”

Then, there came Kevin’s impatient voice. “What is it, Zeena? I’m busy. Got a ton of reports to fill out. It’s so annoying.”

My grip tightened around the phone as my knuckles turned white. I took a deep breath. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to ask where exactly did you buy the liquor for my parents?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Kevin's voice turned slightly unnatural. “Of course, I got it directly from the original factory. All right, I’ve got to go. My boss is calling. I’m hanging up.”

I stared at the bottle of water that cost only a couple of dollars and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of irony. To earn my year-end bonus and prepare proper New Year's gifts for both sides of the family, I had not slept before 2:00 am for two straight months.

Just last week, I was even rushed to the hospital for acute gastric bleeding. Yet Kevin bought fake goods for my parents and lied to me about working overtime.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I opened Kevin’s Instagram account. There was nothing but a blank feed. If it were before, I would have thought he was just too busy to post. Now, I suspected he was hiding things from me on purpose.

On impulse, I remembered the alternate account I had used back in college to see Kevin's posts. I logged into it and opened his profile. His latest post was from half an hour ago. It was a nine-photo grid.

The background was his house back in his hometown, where the table was filled with lavish dishes. The most eye-catching were two unopened cases of premium whisky and two cartons of high-end cigarettes. Even from the photos, I could tell they were genuine.

What made it even more suffocating was the center photo.

Kevin was wearing a red fur coat, smiling as he held a woman close. That woman, dressed in a luxury coat, was clinking glasses with my mother-in-law. My in-laws were grinning from ear to ear.

The caption read: [Wonderful daughter-in-law came to visit. We’re so happy. Thanks for the hard work, my dear wife. Love you!]

I recognized that face immediately.

She was Alina—Kevin’s middle school classmate.

I could no longer suppress my rage. I grabbed the cases of fake liquor and stormed out of the house.

“Zeena, where are you going this late?” Mom had woken up for the bathroom. She called after me, still in her padded coat.

“Work emergency! I have to go back!” I dared not turn around, afraid that she would see my bloodshot eyes.

It was a six-hour drive from my hometown to my in-laws’ county. I did not know how many red lights I ran through along the way.

The stabbing pain in my stomach made it hard to even hold the steering wheel. However, I could not stop.

By the early morning of New Year’s, I finally arrived.

Just as I parked the car, two figures walked out. Kevin was holding Alina’s hand. They were wearing matching red outfits, laughing as they talked.

Alina was holding the two bottles of whisky they had bought with my money, as though she was preparing to give them as gifts.

Kevin gently adjusted her scarf. His eyes were full of admiration and affection.

I sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my nails almost dug into the leather. I wanted to rush over and tear those two apart, to ask Kevin if his heart had turned to stone!

Still, I held back. If I rushed out now, all I would get would be a fight and a trip to the police station. What I needed was to make them pay a price a hundred times worse than mine!

As I watched them walk off laughing to grab breakfast, I took a deep breath, put on my mask and cap, and quietly got out of the car.

Kevin’s place was an old walk-up building with almost no sound insulation. I slipped into the building and hid in the corner between the first and second floors. The place was piled with clutter, just enough to hide me while still letting me clearly hear what was going on upstairs.

I could hear Mrs. Wall’s voice clearly. It was full of envy. “Your daughter-in-law is really something. I saw all those things she brought up last night—cigarettes, liquor… That must’ve cost a fortune, right?”

I held my breath and listened closely.

“Of course!” My mother-in-law’s voice immediately rose an octave, overflowing with pride she could not hide.

“That’s premium whisky! It costs two to three thousand dollars a bottle! Alina bought two whole cases and said she wouldn’t shortchange us old folks. And those cigarettes are Marlboro Premium Black!”

I let out a cold laugh when I heard that.

Those things had been bought with my money! They were bought from my blood, sweat, and sleepless nights!

Mrs. Walls clicked her tongue in admiration. “Such generosity! She’s not like mine, always so stingy. By the way, what happened to your son's previous wife?”

My heart instantly jumped to my throat.

My mother-in-law gave a dismissive snort, like she was talking about something filthy. “Zeena? That useless thing? Already divorced! She’s stingy and good for nothing!”

It felt like I had been struck by lightning. Kevin had actually told others that we were divorced? No wonder he never allowed me to come during the holidays. He always said I should stay with my parents instead.

Just then, footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Kevin and Alina were back. I quickly shrank deeper into the pile of clutter.

Their conversation drifted into my ears.

“Breakfast cost over 50 dollars. That’s so expensive.” Alina’s voice was filled with a teasing, coquettish tone.

“What’s there to worry about? Anyway, that fool is the one paying.” Kevin’s voice was full of contempt and satisfaction.

Alina then asked, “By the way, how much did your ex-wife give this year?”

“Same as always, 10,000 dollars.” Kevin let out a soft chuckle. His tone was dripping with mockery.

Alina hugged him and gave him a quick kiss with a soft smack, then said, “My hubby is amazing. She’s being fooled completely. But you still need to be careful. Don’t let her find out.”

“Find out what?!” Kevin’s voice turned sharp and sarcastic. “She's only focused on work, work, work. She doesn’t even care about the family. Besides, even if she figures it out, so what? The money’s already mine. What’s she gonna do about it?

“Once I drain her completely, I’ll dump her and make her leave with nothing!”

Their laughter faded as they walked away, ending with a door slam.

The stairwell fell back into dead silence. I crouched in the dark corner, grinding my teeth so hard they hurt. I thought of how I had toasted clients across all those nights just to secure that 10,000 dollars, only to end up in an ambulance with a bleeding stomach. I thought of my parents’ guilty, humble expressions in front of those fake bottles of liquor.

A wave of even more violent hatred surged through me.