He Wants Me to Forgive Him For Helping His First Love

Sophie, my husband Ethan's first love, posted a transfer of assets in our community group, filled with sentimental words, "After a five-year love run, I can finally marry you cleanly. Thank you for spending your fortune to ease my worries."

In a fit of anger, I tagged everyone in the group and shared a photo of our marriage certificate.

Almost instantly, Ethan called me via video, his eyes red with fury.

"I just sent Sophie some money! Can you stop making a scene?"

I hung up and blocked him, feeling the weight of divorce settle in.

——

"Emma! What does hanging up mean?"

Ethan stormed in, knocking over a critical medical notice I had been holding.

I quietly bent down to pick it up, biting my lip tightly.

It was just cancer; it wasn't that serious...

At least that's what I kept telling myself, even as tears streamed down my face.

Today was my birthday, marking one month since my lung cancer diagnosis, while my husband was off with another woman.

My illness was a consequence of supporting Ethan during his startup days.

I had stood by him when he was just a struggling entrepreneur, helping him compare raw material prices and build his business from the ground up.

But now he had changed—becoming increasingly cold and volatile.

He dismissed my pain as mere theatrics and resented me for managing household chores.

For days, I noticed Ethan signing contracts and transferring multiple properties.

I had hoped he was selling assets to raise funds for my treatment, which made me feel warm inside.

But seeing him fuming now made my heart sink.

His transformation had nothing to do with me.

It seemed he had just returned from Sophie's place; I could still catch the faint scent of her perfume on him.

My gaze fell to his feet—pink fuzzy slippers that were clearly matching with hers.

When the silence stretched, Ethan impatiently shoved me, and the force knocked me to the ground.

He merely scoffed and turned away.

"What am I even hoping for..." I thought, exhausted, as I closed my eyes and picked myself up off the floor, eventually crawling back into bed.

Later that night, a body reeking of alcohol flopped down beside me.

I opened my eyes and pushed Ethan's arm off me.

Just yesterday, he had criticized my figure and claimed wanting a child was a waste of genes; now he was wrapping me in his arms.

His sudden affection felt suspicious—was it genuine or a manipulation?

Sure enough, Ethan pulled me close again, his tone overly sweet.

"Honey, I know you're understanding. You won't hold what happened with Sophie against me, right?"

"Sophie told me she just lost some money in business. Once I help her out of her financial mess, I swear we'll never see each other again."

I couldn't help but smirk at his audacity.

To speak so brazenly about cheating and secretly transferring marital assets—Ethan truly took the cake!

I threw off the covers and grabbed a pillow, intending to sleep in the guest room.

But Ethan's expression darkened; he clearly hadn't expected me to stand up for myself.

"Emma! Are you really that shameless? I'm talking to you nicely; why are you acting like this?"

"Had it not been for my hard work, you wouldn't be living this life! Without me, you'd be nothing!"

"You're always acting like a crazy person, wallowing in self-pity. Sophie is so much more gentle and caring than you! I'm just letting you know about this; you don't have the right to interfere!"

He continued to rant for three straight minutes, unleashing all his disdain and contempt for me.

Finally, he feigned concern, "I've checked on you while you're sick; don't get too cocky. I'm going to see Sophie tomorrow."

I shut the door with a blank expression, unable to suppress a bitter laugh.

My fake, empty marriage mocked me; I felt foolish for not seeing through him sooner.

In Ethan's eyes, I was just a sickly wife whose only role was to manage household chores.

I didn't even measure up to Sophie; any criticism I had of her was rooted in jealousy of her youth and beauty.

Ethan relentlessly exploited my feelings for him while I suffered in silence—truly a self-inflicted wound!