Claudia was a new intern at his company—I had even met her briefly at the last company gathering. The girl looked shy and timid, calling his name with an almost sugary sweetness that made my skin crawl.

I put my phone back as if nothing had happened.

After Richard finished his shower, I casually asked him about Claudia.

He didn't hesitate or show the slightest guilt. Instead, he praised her, saying she had made remarkable progress last month and that he had rewarded her with a necklace.

Half of my doubts eased. Richard did often buy small gifts to reward his employees.

The next morning, as soon as I got to the office, I opened my phone and connected to the backup surveillance at home.

I had installed it six months ago to watch the cat. The camera was hidden behind a row of books on the living room shelf, perfectly facing the sofa and the entryway.

After the cat was sent to my mother's house, the camera had lain unused. Richard had long forgotten it existed.

The night before, while he slept, I had quietly plugged it in and connected it to the internet.

The feed showed a quiet, still house—nothing out of the ordinary.

I watched for three consecutive days and saw nothing suspicious.

Had I been overthinking? Perhaps the necklace really was just a reward for an employee.

Part of me desperately didn't want to believe that the man who had slept beside me for seven years could betray me.

On Friday afternoon, the company suddenly sent me on a business trip to a neighboring city. I left work two hours early to pack.

But when I pushed the door open, Richard was in the bathroom taking a shower.

He usually bathed at night before bed—this was unusual.

"Honey? You're home already?"

Wrapped in a towel, he stepped out. For a moment, a flash of panic crossed his face, quickly masked by his usual calm.

"Unexpected trip. Just came to grab a few clothes."

I said nothing, walking into the bathroom and picking up a bottle of lotion.

The moment I lifted it, I noticed it was significantly lighter.

Shining the light through the bottle, I could see that where there had been more than half a bottle a few days ago, now it was nearly empty.

The unease in my chest tightened again.

I didn't ask anything, only packed my bag in silence.

When I left, Richard was unusually attentive.

"Let me take you to the garage, honey. I'm gonna miss you while you're gone."

He carried my suitcase with a considerate smile, the image of the perfect, devoted husband.

By the time I reached the hotel in the neighboring city, it was already nine o'clock at night. I didn't have time to wash up. Instead, I opened the home surveillance feed again.

The screen loaded. Richard was sitting alone on the sofa, scrolling on his phone, looking bored and listless.

I stared at the screen for over ten minutes, about to turn it off and sleep, when a sound came from the door.

A soft "beep."

The sound of the electronic lock being swiped.

The door opened, and a figure in a short skirt walked in with the ease of someone who knew exactly where she was going.

It was Claudia.

And in her hand was the missing access card.

Richard leapt from the sofa, his face soft with a kind of affection I hadn't seen in years.

Claudia moved through the apartment like it was her own. She didn't even wear the guest slippers—she slipped into my pink silk house slippers, the birthday gift Richard had given me, the ones I had always treasured and rarely worn.

"Richard," Claudia purred, throwing herself straight into Richard's arms.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"My little devil, you're finally here. I missed you so much."

"Oh, I had to put on makeup," she whined, tracing circles on his chest with her finger.

"That boring old hag won't be back for a week. We've got plenty of time. And this week? I'm going to take good care of you, hahaha…"

With that, Richard scooped her up in his arms, laughing, and carried her into my bedroom.

I stared at the phone screen, my nails digging into my palms until they nearly bled.

He really had cheated.

My first instinct was to call him and demand answers. I found his number, my finger hovering over the dial… and then I froze. Shouting at him would only alert them and give them time to cover their tracks. I couldn't let them off that easily.

The next few days dragged on endlessly. My business trip became a torment. By day, I forced myself through work. By night, I locked myself in the hotel room, obsessively watching the surveillance feed.

Claudia had already claimed the apartment as her own. She wore my pajamas. She used my skincare.

She even… used my bed. And my husband.

The most disgusting thing? She stuck her foot into my hundred-dollar body lotion, scooping the cream to rub on her feet.

And Richard? He didn't stop her. He sat there, smiling, massaging her soles.

I ran to the bathroom and vomited. Several times.

Cold water on my face, I stared at my reflection—pale, rigid, and burning with anger.

If they had no shame, then I wouldn't hold back.

I downloaded all the surveillance footage, backed it up to the cloud, and then called my lawyer, Anthony Clooney.

"Anthony, draft a divorce agreement. I want Richard out, with nothing to his name."

After hanging up, I glanced at the calendar. Tomorrow was my birthday. Richard had promised to celebrate it with me. But now, it was clear he had already forgotten.

Fine. Then I'd throw myself a "grand" birthday party.

I compressed my work into five days and booked an early return flight. Then I sent three group messages.

The first went to my parents and in-laws: [Mom, Dad, this Saturday is my birthday. Richard wants to host a gathering at home. You're invited to come and celebrate!]

The second went to Richard's close friends, colleagues, and Claudia's office rivals: [Saturday, 10 a.m., party at Richard's place. Good food, good wine—come join!]

The last went to the property manager: [Saturday morning, I'll be upgrading the home security system. Please have two security staff stationed at the entrance—they may need to help move things.]

Everyone happily agreed.

The next morning, I landed and headed straight home.

The surveillance feed showed them still entangled in bed, whispering and laughing.

Richard brushed her cheek with his hand.

"Baby, wake up. Hungry? I'll order some delivery."

"Mmm… I don't want to move…" she mumbled. "Richard, I want you to cook me noodles."

"Okay, okay, I'll make them."

Richard kissed her cheek, indulgent and soft, and headed to the kitchen.

At 9:50 a.m., the doorbell rang.

Richard was in the kitchen, cooking noodles, when the doorbell rang. He jumped in surprise.

"Who is it?" he called out.

Claudia stirred, annoyed, rolling over in bed.

"Is it the delivery? That was quick."

"I'll go check."

Richard turned off the stove and, wearing only a pair of boxers, went to the door.

He peeked through the peephole—and instantly went pale, as if his soul had fled.

Outside, a crowd of a dozen or more people had gathered, chatting and laughing.

"What… what's going on?! Why are they here?!" His legs went weak, his face drained of color.

"What's wrong, Richard? Who's here?" Claudia asked, rubbing her eyes and stepping out in her robe.

"Quick! Hide!" Richard hissed, shoving her toward the bedroom. "My parents and my friends are here… and a bunch of others!"

"What?!" Claudia sat up, fully awake. "Where… where do I hide?"

"The master bedroom! Lock the door! Don't make a sound!"

He shoved her into the bedroom, too flustered even to clean up the compromising traces in the living room.

The doorbell rang again, more urgently this time.

"Richard? Open the door! Why aren't you answering?" My mother's voice carried clearly.

"Is he still sleeping in?" my mother-in-law added.

Richard's legs buckled. He braced himself against the door and turned to the bedroom, whispering fiercely, "Hurry! Get dressed! Hide!"

Inside the bedroom, chaos ensued.

Richard was drenched in sweat, unsure whether to open the door, when I stepped out of the elevator.

"Dad, Mom, why are you standing out here? Where's Richard? Why won't he open the door?"

Everyone stepped aside when they saw me.

"I don't know… he's dragging his feet," my mother-in-law complained.

I reached for the door and unlocked it with my fingerprint.

Click.

The lock disengaged.

The door opened halfway and Richard barreled into it, blocking my path.

"H-Honey? You're… back?" His voice shook despite his attempt at calm.

"I came back early to give you a surprise!" I said cheerfully, pushing the door harder.

"No… it's just… the place is such a mess! Really messy!" Richard stammered. "Give me ten minutes… no, five! I'll clean up!"

"Clean up? They're family—what's the big deal?"

My mother-in-law, impatient, joined me in pushing the door.

"Exactly, Richard! Don't tell me you're trying to hide wine and cigarettes from us?"

Richard's friends outside jeered in agreement.

One man alone couldn't stand against so many.

The door swung open.

Richard collapsed onto the floor, half-naked, wearing only boxers.

Everyone surged inside.

The living room was a disaster.

Claudia's stockings were draped across the sofa, half-eaten snacks and red wine glasses cluttered the coffee table, and tissues were scattered across the floor. The air was thick with an almost tangible scent of decadence.

"Oh my God! Was the house robbed?!" my mother-in-law exclaimed, frozen in shock.

Richard scrambled to his feet, pale, stammering explanations.

"N-no… it wasn't robbed. Yesterday… I was home alone, drinking… and… didn't have time to clean up."

"Alone? Drinking?" I scoffed, walking to the sofa and picking up a black lace piece of lingerie.

It was the one Claudia had worn yesterday.

Holding the tiny garment up in front of him, I stared at his sweat-drenched, panicked face.

"Honey… you were home alone, drinking, and… wearing this?"