Behind the Cheating: Attractive Wife is Dangerous

The next morning, Maria woke me with a kiss.

Half-asleep, remembering her words from last night, I felt repulsed and pushed her away.

She seemed unaware of my discomfort. "Honey, breakfast is ready, all your favorites," Maria kissed my cheek again. "I have to run to the office, lots to do."

Her voice was as tender as ever. After she left, I stared at the steaming food and milk on the table, my thoughts drifting back seven years...

I first met Maria on the day of my freshman registration. My suitcase was knocked open by hurried students, scattering my belongings.

She helped me gather my things and led me to my dorm.

I thought our interaction would be brief, but over the next three months, I kept bumping into her around campus, and she teasingly called me "junior." During a PE class, I hadn't eaten breakfast and got a stomach ache.

She stayed with me in the infirmary.

From then on, she would wait under my dorm with breakfast every day.

My roommate envied, "She's so nice to you and so pretty. Why not just accept her?"

I shook my head. It wasn't that I minded her being older.

I just didn't feel capable of protecting and caring for a girl yet.

After she graduated and started working, she often returned to visit me and bought clothes and shoes for me.

On weekends, she'd invite me over, cooking meals herself.

Whenever I bowed my head in shame, feeling I couldn't match her, she would smile. "There's no pressure. I just want to be good to you."

After six years of meticulous care, I eventually fell for her.

Maria once said she wanted to make me breakfast for a lifetime.

Look!

How considerate!

How gentle!

Her heart was no longer with me, yet she still remembered her promises.

If not for the photos in her album with that young guy and the large transactions, I might even doubt that last night's revelations were just a nightmare.

That evening, for the first time, Maria came home on time.

Seeing the empty fridge, she paused, then smiled, "Let's eat out tonight. I know a popular restaurant—"

I shook my head, cutting her off, "I've already eaten."

Only then did she notice a bowl of leftover instant noodles on the table.

Feigning anger, "Junk food is bad for your stomach. Aren't you afraid of ending up in the hospital again?"

Due to irregular meals during my studies, I developed chronic gastritis, often rushing to the hospital in the middle of the night due to stomach pain.

I gave a wry smile, "Doesn't matter anymore." Maria snuggled into my arms, still beautiful as ever, as if time hadn't touched her, although she was twenty-nine now, she was just as beautiful as in her college days.

She cooed, "Don't worry. You're my husband. Even if you're not well, I'll never leave you!" She tiptoed to kiss me.

Feeling her intense need, I subtly dodged her advances. "I'm tired, not in the mood." Maria froze, clearly unhappy, yet she restrained herself from losing her temper. While I was washing dishes in the kitchen, she took a call.

Then, she picked up her bag from the sofa and said, "Something urgent at the office, I need to go. Don't wait up."