On the day I drive home from my business trip, I find out that my husband, Matthew Channing, has occupied my parking slot.

His SUV is parked haphazardly between two parking slots, leaving me without any space to park my own car at all.

I find it funny that Matthew is such a klutz when it comes to things like this. So, I take a video of the situation and upload it to the Internet. Little do I know that it will go viral shortly afterward.

Thinking that everyone will laugh at Matthew with me, I'm surprised when I see the comment section.

"Don't tell me you got tricked by your husband for real! It's obvious that he has a mistress at home with him right now! Once you reach home and call him to move his car, he'll know that you're back!"

"Lady, leave the car be! What's more important right now is the mistress in your bed!"

"Do not call your husband and tell him to move his car no matter what! Right now, you have to go home and catch him in the act!"

My heart lurched, hammering against my ribs.

Matthew Channing and I had used those two parking spots for years, and nothing like this had ever happened before. But after a moment, I let out a small laugh and shook it off.

The internet crowd was probably too deep into their drama binges. Everything had to be some big scandal with them.

Matthew and I had weathered storms together for years. I knew him better than anyone. When I called him just now, nothing seemed off at all. He sounded exactly the same as always.

We met in college and had been married for six years. When I couldn't bear to leave my parents and move to another city, he didn't think twice. He packed up his whole family and moved to mine, starting over from scratch.

Two years ago, when I fell seriously ill, he quit his newly promoted director position on the spot just so he could take care of me full-time. After I rose to the management level at my family's company, I worked late constantly, but no matter how tired he was, he always stayed up waiting for me.

Over the past two years, he had even given up the career in the professional field he'd spent years building and transferred to my department to share my workload.

How could a man like that ever betray me? What would strangers on the internet know?

Just as I was thinking this, someone knocked on the car window.

Matthew stood there with a jacket draped over his shoulders, looking sheepish. "Have you been waiting long?"

I teased him. "That parking job of yours was pretty awful."

He grimaced. "I ate something bad. My stomach wouldn't cooperate."

He turned, clutching his stomach, and went to move his car. Watching him scramble like that, whatever sliver of doubt I felt melted instantly into sympathy. While he was busy moving the car, I posted an update in the comment section of the video.

"Thanks for the concern, everyone. It's just a false alarm. My husband wasn't feeling well and parked in a rush."

Matthew and I went upstairs together. I dropped my suitcase by the door and headed straight for the bathroom.

The moment I picked up the shampoo bottle, I could tell it was lighter. The little bit that was left before my business trip was completely gone.

I called out without thinking. "Matthew, did you use my shampoo?"

He came jogging out of the kitchen with a scallion in hand. "Yeah, I just wanted to try it out. Is it empty? I can run out and grab some right now."

I was about to tell him not to bother when something in the corner of the bathroom caught my eye. Two long strands of hair were tangled around the drain filter, jet-black and glossy.

Before I left for my trip, the housekeeper had cleaned the drain. There hadn't been a single strand of hair left behind.

I forced my voice to stay calm. "Don't worry about it. I'll just shower first."

I shut the door and immediately grabbed my phone, messaging the property manager to request for the parking garage surveillance footage. When the video came through, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely tap it open.

On screen, that familiar silver SUV rolled in slowly. Matthew got out, looked around in both directions, and adjusted the angle a few times. There wasn't an inch of extra space on either side of the two spots. Then he walked away.

But just as he reached the edge of the camera frame, the shadow of a second person flickered past alongside him. I stared at the screen, my eyes practically burning. He had used the parking spots as cover and knew exactly how to avoid the cameras.

This was the man who uprooted his entire life for me? The one who waited up for me every single night?

Before I left on this trip, I was still discussing making him a shareholder in the company.

My phone kept buzzing with notifications. The commenters had seen my update, and the mockery was relentless.

"Told you guys, why even bother helping her analyze anything? She's completely blinded by love!"

"Must be nice to live your whole life that blissfully ignorant."

"Watch, she's gonna show the video to her husband and complain about how ridiculous the internet is. Then she'll swear her undying loyalty to her precious hubby."

I let out a bitter laugh. They were right. I was an idiot.

I'd been so arrogant, so sure that what Matthew and I had was unbreakable. It never occurred to me that the only reason it seemed that way was because he was so good at hiding it.

I took a deep breath and typed a reply.

"You were right. He's cheating."

The comment section exploded again. Some people offered comfort, some cursed him out, but most of them were just there to gloat.

"We literally told you, and you didn't believe us. I bet you're the type to ignore him for a week and then go right back to washing his underwear."

"Plot twist after plot twist. She'll delete the video and make up with him by tomorrow. Just wait."

I bit my lip, my eyes stinging.

I was Vivienne Jenner, and I wasn't the kind of woman who swallowed her anger in silence. I clenched my jaw and typed another sentence.

"I want a divorce. How do I make sure he leaves with nothing?"

Within seconds, my comment section was flooded and my follower count skyrocketed.

"I'm a licensed divorce attorney. Starting right now, you need to gather every piece of evidence you can, like surveillance footage, financial records, and chat logs. Get as much as possible."

"Go through his spending with a fine-tooth comb. Any large transfers? Any gifts or expensive purchases?"

I took mental note of every suggestion, replying to each one with a thank-you.

After a quick shower, the first thing I did was tiptoe into the living room and plug in the security camera. It came with the apartment and we'd never once turned it on, but now it was exactly what I needed.

Matthew was standing at the front door, holding it half-open, talking to someone outside.

I walked over quickly and caught his hand before he could close it. "Who is it? What's going on?"

He'd just come back from sneaking around behind my back. Every person who showed up near him was someone I needed to pay attention to.

Matthew smiled easily. "Just the neighbor. She came to borrow a phone charger. I was just closing the door."

I looked past him. A pretty young woman stood in the doorway, and she didn't seem the least bit flustered when she saw me.

The scent drifting from her hair hit me immediately. It was faint but familiar, identical to my shampoo.

Well, that saved me some trouble.

I crossed my arms. "That charger was yours to begin with, wasn't it? You left it here."

Her expression shifted, and she rolled her eyes. "Lady, are you okay? I'm in a hurry. I just came to borrow a charger. What's your problem?"

I held her gaze. "We've lived in this private-elevator unit for years and never once interacted with the neighbors. So which neighbor are you, exactly? And what a coincidence that the scent in your hair is identical to my shampoo."

She curled her lip into a sneer. "Are you insane? You think every woman you see is a homewrecker? I bought my own shampoo. They sell it at every store. You think you're the only person allowed to use it?"

She shoved the charger into Matthew's arms. "Forget it, I don't need to borrow this anymore. The last thing I need is to be accused of stealing. Honestly, you should take your wife to see a doctor before it's too late."

She turned and left. Even as she stepped into the elevator, she turned back to look at me one more time, like she was staring at a lunatic.

Matthew frowned. "Vivienne, what are you doing? She just came to borrow a charger. Was that really necessary?"

I stared at him, a dull ache spreading through my chest.

"What is she to you? You're snapping at me over someone I've never even met?"

His expression softened, shifting into something that looked like helplessness with a touch of hurt. "I wasn't snapping at you. I just think you're being too sensitive. It was just a charger. Nothing's going on."

"Or is this because you came home and saw my bad parking job, so now everything's rubbing you the wrong way?"

Listening to him turn this around on me, I almost wanted to laugh. That righteous indignation of his only worked because he knew I didn't have solid proof.

"Fine. If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

I didn't say another word. I went back to the bedroom and posted the surveillance screenshots on social media. The response was instant.

"She's going full surveillance mode on this scumbag. This is about to be a showdown!"

"Anyone can post a couple of blurry screenshots. This is probably just another clout-chasing stunt."

"That's it, keep watching him. Find an excuse to stay away from home. The other woman's bound to show up again sooner or later."

"Let them drop their guard. Then catch them off guard."

I read through every single comment, carefully taking note of every useful piece of advice.

Over the next few days, I made a point of working late and staying at a hotel near the office. Matthew sounded perfectly relaxed at home, and he still called me every night, his voice warm and eager.

"Honey, I can barely sleep without you here. Are you coming home tonight?"

"Not tonight. This project's almost finished. Give me a few more days." I replied half-heartedly and opened the surveillance app on my phone.

On screen, the moment he hung up, he got off the couch and walked to the front door. He opened it, and that woman threw herself straight into his arms.

So this was what happened whenever I wasn't home. She crawled in like a cockroach the second I was gone.

I gripped my phone until my knuckles went white, a wave of nausea rising in my throat.

She wrapped her arms around Matthew's neck and pouted. "When are you going to actually spend more time with me?

"The baby's getting bigger, you know. He's starting to ask for his daddy. I wanted to bring him over tonight, but your parents wouldn't let me."

So his parents knew all along. The rage hit me so hard I could feel my heartbeat in my ears.

Matthew pulled her close and guided her inside, his voice gentle and coaxing. "They were right not to let you bring him. What if he catches a cold coming out this late? Just hang in there a little longer."

"Hang in there?" She shoved him away and dropped onto the couch. "I can't see you, so I just have to put up with it. I'm stuck living with your parents, and I just have to put up with that too. How much longer do you expect me to live like this?"

She jutted out her bottom lip. "Tell me, when are you going to get us a bigger place? Somewhere the whole family can live together comfortably. The baby needs room to run around."

He leaned in and wrapped his arm around her. "Once I make shareholder the day after tomorrow, I'll get you a bigger place right away. No more walking on eggshells around anyone.

"Whenever I want to see you and the baby, I'll just come. Ten years of groundwork are all coming together this month."

I stared at the screen, my fingers ice-cold. So that was what this was. That was what all of it was for.

They disappeared into the bedroom, out of the camera's range.

I stood up, grabbed my bag, and walked out. I didn't know her name or where she came from, but the child living with his parents wasn't going anywhere. I updated my social media on the way.

"Found out they have a child together. His parents have been raising it. I'm on my way to their place right now."

The comments flooded in.

"A secret child? This is way worse than I thought. Don't you dare let him off easy!"

"Slow down. No divorce papers means you're still married. Plenty of people catch their spouse in bed with someone else and still don't go through with it."

"A child is solid evidence. This works in your favor. These are all bargaining chips. Whatever you do, do not confront his parents right now."

My anger was still churning inside me, but that last comment stopped me in my tracks. It cooled me down almost instantly.

My first instinct was to storm over there tonight and drag the truth out into the open. But if I spooked them now, and they hid the child somewhere I couldn't find, I'd have nothing left to work with.

I knocked on my in-laws' door. The two of them looked only mildly surprised to see me.

"It's so late," my mother-in-law, Jenny Turner, said. "What are you doing here by yourself?"

I peered past them into the apartment, scanning for any sign of a child. There was nothing.

My heart sank.