My Wife Betrayed Me with Her Childhood Sweetheart on Our Wedding Anniversary

When I woke up the next day, it was already noon by then. However, I could feel my head was throbbing like crazy while my mouth was unbearably dry. Instinctively, I lifted a shaky hand to my forehead when it burned with heat.

Immediately, I peeled away the gauze on my abdomen and saw redness with a streak of yellowish fluid seeping through. Clearly, the wound was infected.

After washing and changing into clean clothes, I planned to take a taxi to the hospital. But when I stepped into the dining room, Monica was already sitting there with her arms folded tightly across her chest, while her face was gloomy.

“You dare to get up now? Anyone who didn’t know better would think you were sleeping peacefully. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?”

I had never been someone who liked to sleep in.

For the past five years, whether working or not, I had always woken at five in the morning, prepared a delicious breakfast and packed a lunchbox full of care for her.

She had grown so accustomed to my efforts that it never occurred to her I might be unwell on a morning like this.

However, since I didn’t have the strength to argue, I just grabbed my keys and walked straight toward the door.

Monica suddenly stood, strode toward me in a few quick steps and grabbed my arm.

“What do you mean by this? I specially prepared a whole table of food, but you’re just going to turn your back on me?”

I stumbled two steps, which caused my back to hit the closet with a dull thud. Pain shot through me, but at least it kept me from falling.

My gaze followed her words to the table, which had a spread of colorful dishes. Unfortunately, none of which I could eat.

“I don’t want to eat anymore, I … ”

I started weakly, but before finishing, her face became even more gloomy. She then dragged me back to the table, pressing me firmly into the chair.

“You’re a man. Don’t you feel ashamed acting like this?”

“I even burned my arm cooking this whole meal for you, yet you dare to waste my effort by saying you don’t want to eat anymore?”

Her tirade annoyed me so much that I picked up a potato that looked less spicy and forced it into my mouth with my cutlery.

“Is this fine now? I really need to go out.”

If I didn’t leave soon, I would have to wait another two hours at the hospital.

Monica sneered, stood abruptly and yanked the tablecloth.

“Whether you want to eat it or not, I should never have cooked for you!”

I could only watch helplessly as hot liquid spilled across my clothes. The only thing I could do was sigh before turning back to the bedroom to search for a clean set to change into. While I was changing, Monica then stormed in, kicking the door angrily.

Only to freeze when her eyes landed on my abdomen.

“That … it’s already been how many days, so why is it still bleeding?”

I looked down. The thick discharge mixed with blood had soaked the gauze, making it look like it was bleeding

“What do you mean by how many days? It’s only been three.”

Since I had been discharged, she hadn’t taken care of me for even a minute. Instead, she had been reminding me about the anniversary while constantly appearing in Zane’s circle of friends.

“Really, you can’t even say that you’re not feeling well? Are you mute?”

“Change your clothes. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

I was about to refuse, but she had already slammed the door shut.

If she had taken the initiative before, I would have been happy. I once loved her with every private moment with her once made me feel grateful. But now, being near her only made me feel suffocated. Strangely enough, being alone felt more comfortable.

When we got into the car, she placed a lunchbox on the passenger seat and ordered me to sit in the back. I didn’t argue, quietly obeyed as I sat on the back seat and pulled out my phone to book an outpatient appointment.

After exiting the app, my finger accidentally tapped into the circle of friends. Zane’s post was pinned at the very top.

[I woke up hungry, but suddenly wanted to eat the dishes you made.]

The photo showed several plates of stir-fried dishes, all smothered in peppers, with their original ingredients hard to identify. I thought of the overturned dishes earlier and could only laugh bitterly at myself. It wasn’t that they had forgotten I couldn’t eat them.

From the very beginning, the food hadn’t been prepared for me at all.

When I looked up, I realized the route Monica drove wasn’t toward the hospital.

I checked the time on my watch, irritation rising, then tapped on the back of her seat.

“If you’re busy, drop me off here. I’ll take a taxi.”

Monica frowned, her eyes still on the road.

“Why are you in such a rush? Zane hurt his hand. I’ll drop this meal off and come right down.”

By the time she finished talking, she had already parked at the entrance of Zane’s neighborhood.

To stop me from leaving, she locked the door with the car key.