Chapter 1

My daughter clung to my leg, crying because she wanted a ten-dollar toy.

My husband didn't even glance at her. "Don't spoil her," he said coldly. "It's a waste of money."

I swallowed my heartache and had just calmed her down when my phone buzzed with a notification—his "first love" had posted on Instagram.

In the photo, she was beaming, holding a brandnew designer bag.

I found myself opening Amazon on impulse. The price tag—ten thousand dollars—stabbed at my eyes.

Her caption read: "Thank you! I absolutely love this birthday gift!"

And beneath the photo, my husband's account had left the only like.

I looked down at the chipped, faded doll in my daughter's hands. Quietly, I took a screenshot and sent it to him with just one question:

"That bag of hers could buy our daughter ten thousand dolls. Am I right?"

"You bought that bag for Vanessa?"

"Ten thousand dollars—where did you even get that kind of money?"

Ryan didn't stop what he was doing. He didn't even look up.

"Ten thousand? That's a knockoff. Two hundred bucks from a street vendor."

"Vanessa just lost her job and was feeling down. I bought her a fake one to cheer her up. We're old friends, after all."

He said it so casually, like it was nothing.

My heart clenched like someone had grabbed it and squeezed.

"Cheer up an old friend?"

"Ryan, last week Lily wanted a tendollar doll and you said it was too expensive—that it was a scam for kids."

"But you're spending money to make someone else feel better?"

Ryan threw his phone onto the couch in annoyance, frowning at me.

"Are you done? Lily's just wasting money. The house is already full of toys."

"Vanessa's different. She's raising a kid on her own—it's not easy. As a man, what's wrong with helping out a little?"

"Can you stop being so petty? You're paranoid about everything."

Me? Petty?

She's the one who has it hard?

I let out a cold laugh and turned back to the bedroom.

Ryan thought I'd bought his lies. He picked up his phone again, muttering "unbelievable" under his breath.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands and feet ice cold.

That bag wasn't fake.

The authenticity tags, the leather grain—none of it could be counterfeited.

I knew it too well. It was the exact bag I'd stared at for months on our wedding anniversary but couldn't bring myself to buy.

I took a deep breath, my hands trembling as I opened Ryan's old phone.

After he got a new one, he'd left this one in the drawer, only using it for games.

But he forgot—a lot of apps stay synced.

I opened the Amazon app, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of my throat.

The most recent order was a train ticket.

Last Saturday.

Destination: a city two hours away.

And that day, Ryan had told me the company needed him to work overtime—an allnighter to finish a project.

I scrolled down, my breathing growing ragged.

Same day. Another charge.

An upscale family restaurant in that city. Eight hundred dollars per person.

That money could have bought Lily eighty toys.

It could have covered our family's groceries for a whole month.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I tilted my head back, forcing them not to fall.

I called the restaurant.

Someone answered quickly—a sweet, professional voice.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

I forced my voice to stay calm.

"Hi, my husband had dinner at your restaurant last Saturday and I think he left his lighter behind. Could you check for me?"

"I'm not sure which table he was at. His name is Ryan, and his phone number ends in XXXX."

I heard typing on the other end, then the server replied.

"Ma'am, yes, we found the record. Mr. Ryan did dine here."

"However, when our staff cleaned the table, they didn't find any items left behind."

My grip on the phone tightened, nails digging into my palm.

"I see… maybe I remembered wrong."

"By the way, was he alone that day? I just worry he might have been drinking at a business dinner."

The server must have heard the concern in my voice; her tone grew warmer.

"Don't worry, ma'am. Mr. Ryan didn't drink."

"He came with a woman and a little boy."

"I noticed the boy kept calling Mr. Ryan 'Daddy.' They looked so close—just like a real family."

Just like a real family.

Those words stabbed into my heart like a knife.

I don't remember how I hung up.

All I could hear in my head was: just like a real family.

Ryan hadn't just spent money. He'd given something even more precious—his time.

All his patience, his gentleness, his money—he'd given it all to that woman and her child.

What he left for me and Lily was coldness, empty excuses, and lies.

This was the man I'd defied my family to marry.

This was the husband I'd pinched pennies for, sacrificed my dreams to support.

Disgusting.

I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face.

The icy shock cleared my head instantly.

What good was crying?

Could tears bring back the money?

Could tears make Ryan change?

No.

Ryan, since you love playing daddy to someone else's kid so much—

I'll make sure you get exactly what you deserve.