“Your mother has passed, and crying won’t change that—so wipe your face, prepare dinner, and don’t look like a mourning child when my guests show up,” my husband told me only two hours after I returned

The screen clearly displayed a series of figures and transactions he had kept hidden behind piles of false financial reports. Mark thought he was smart. He thought he could cheat the company’s audit system by dividing large expenses into small receipts under headings like operations expenses or client entertainment. But he had forgotten that the company he worked for had been founded by his late mother-in-law, and its oversight systems were far more sophisticated than his twisted mind. Mr. Harrison pointed to the tablet screen with an accusing finger. He began to break down Mark’s sins one by one in front of his wife and his mistress. The president’s voice was monotonous but sharp, tearing apart the last vestiges of Mark’s pride.

He read a transaction from a month ago for the purchase of a designer handbag at a luxury boutique. The date coincided with the day Mark told me he had to work all night due to a surprise audit. It turned out his audit consisted of going on a luxury shopping spree with Jessica using the company credit card. I felt a tightness in my chest, not from jealousy, but from deep disgust. While I was saving money at home to pay the electricity bill, my husband was squandering company money on another woman. Jessica, whose name was mentioned in the audit report, was trembling violently. Her pretty, made-up face was now stained with cold sweat.

She shook her head, panicking, and tried to extricate herself in the most cowardly way possible. Jessica screamed in a high-pitched voice, claiming she had no idea where the money came from. She excused herself by saying Mark had given it to her as a gift and that she thought it was his personal money. Jessica began to cry, but they were not tears of remorse, but crocodile tears to save herself. She pointed at Mark with a finger adorned with fake nails, accusing him of deceiving her. She said he had seduced her and pressured her into accepting those gifts. Hearing Jessica’s betrayal, Mark became furious. His face turned as red as a tomato, and the veins in his neck bulged.

He couldn’t accept being the only one to blame. The illicit relationship they had flaunted, the one they called true love behind my back, crumbled in an instant when their personal interests were threatened. Mark struck back at Jessica. He shouted that she was the one who was always asking for things. Mark revealed that Jessica had threatened to break up with him if he didn’t buy her a new piece of jewelry. They insulted each other publicly, airing each other’s dirty laundry, blaming each other. The scene was both pathetic and cathartic. The two people who had united to hurt me were now tearing each other apart like stray dogs fighting over a bone.

The guests, Mark’s colleagues, watched the fight with their mouths agape. They felt disgusted watching this cheap drama. They now realized how rotten the morals of their boss and their colleague were. Whispers and mocking laughter began to be heard. Jessica’s reputation as an elegant career woman collapsed in an instant, being labeled a materialistic gold digger. Mark’s reputation as a faithful husband and wise leader also vanished, becoming a stupid, unfaithful, corrupt man. Amidst the chaos, Mr. Harrison signaled his secretary to play a video. It was a recording from the security camera of a luxury restaurant. The screen clearly showed Mark and Jessica on a romantic dinner date holding hands and laughing happily.

The date of the video was our third wedding anniversary. That day, Mark had told me he had a stomach ache and had gone to bed early in our room. It turned out that after I fell asleep, exhausted from household chores, he had snuck out to meet Jessica. Seeing that visual proof, my heart felt as if a giant hand was squeezing it. It hurt. It was bitter. But strangely, I also felt relief. Relief because all my suspicions were confirmed. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t paranoid. My instincts had been right. They were traitors.