You Betrayed Me for a Traitor

"I'll go with you, bro."

Gareth really meant to tag along.

I didn't say no, of course, but I made sure my fingers secretly pressed that recorder in my coat pocket.

Ellen trailed us to the door, throwing these worried glances at me, then at Gareth. Her lips moved slightly.

Gareth chuckled and gave her a little shove back. "Chill, Ellen, who's being all clingy now?"

Who was he even calling clingy?

Gareth then closed the door.

As we hit the stairs, the bastard suddenly stuck out his arm right in my face, showing off this flashy-ass watch with a band of diamonds.

"Hey, bro, look! Ellen got this for me as a birthday gift. She said she had it customized for over 100,000 bucks."

"What'd she get you? Can't be worse than what her childhood friend got, right?"

His eyes dropped to my wrist, where my old, worn watch sat, and then he burst into a 'pfft' laugh.

Six years with Ellen, and she never gave me a damn thing worth mentioning.

This old watch? My dad's.

He said it was antique and the most valuable thing we had—my safety net if I ever hit rock bottom.

I bawled my eyes out when he passed it on, and back then, Ellen held me to comfort me.

She swore that one day, she'd buy me and my old man the best watches money could get.

Well, she did buy a damn fancy one. But she gave it to this piece of trash instead.

I turned my wrist w around and scoffed.

"Sure, she buys you a better watch. But at the end of the day, you're still just the childhood friend."

"To be frank, all you're getting from her is some cash, dude. Nothing else."

I spat it out like I was tough, but deep down, I was barely keeping it together.

A custom watch worth over 100,000?

If Gareth wasn't just bragging, then my wife didn't just cheat on me—she's been hiding assets too from me.

That liar always told me she only made over 1,000 bucks a month, so I would hand her 4,200 every month.

Even if she saved every single penny for six years and never bought groceries—she'd only save around 70,000.

And it's not like they were living on a tight budget. Ellen and her mom? They were all about luxury, and all they cared about was that they had overpriced food, branded clothes, fancy housing, and upgraded cars.

I'd make 8,400 a month. 4,200 went to her and 2,800 to her mom.

The little over 1,000 left, after paying the mortgage and car loan, was spent on daily expenses.

So, how the hell did she get 100,000 bucks to buy her other man a custom watch?

Just that morning, I said I wouldn't be a fool, and then came night, I found out the biggest fool was actually me.

"'The hell you're proud of, bro?!"

Gareth got enraged and suddenly shouted, slamming his knee hard against the wall.

As he lay on the ground clutching his knee and howling, the door upstairs opened.

Ellen poked her head out and, seeing Gareth pale with pain, jumped down the stairs in a panic.

Gareth was in my wife's arms, grabbing her arm, and gasping out, "It has nothing to do with him, Ellen. I... I accidentally bumped into it."

Ellen gently rolled up Gareth's pant leg and saw that his knee was red and swollen with a large patch of skin scraped off.

Not a word passed her lips before she stood up and slapped me.

"Why are you so damn cruel? Gareth was just being nice to keep you company, and you took the chance to beat him up when no one was looking?!"

My cheek burned, my temper finally snapping. I slapped her right back.

Smack!

The sharp strike echoed through the hallway, and all of her nosy friends who'd been hovering at the top of the stairs like vultures, came rushing down, shoving themselves between me and Ellen.

"Hey! How can you hit Ellen? She's your wife!"

Wife?

I laughed sarcastically.

Ellen looked shocked, tears filling her eyes.

"You—you actually hit me? Fine! When I come back, I'm divorcing you!"

As she spoke, she helped Gareth up and walked downstairs.

I pressed my tongue against my sore cheek and called out to her back, "Cool! Divorce sounds perfect to me!"

Ellen tripped, pulling Gareth down with her.

Everyone freaked out, calling their names, and rushed towards them.

Only this one little girl looked at me with sorry eyes, saying, "Wesley, let's get them to the hospital first."

I didn't bother. The second the whole damn crowd was gone, I headed to the garage.

Ellen fell too, and they'd all piled into a friend's car to get to the hospital.

I had long meant to check the dashcam but he didn't get the chance 'cause Ellen was always using the damn car.

Ellen probably thought I had no chance to get to the car. She must've felt so confident I'd never see what God knows she and Gareth did in there.

With all the evidence in hand, I didn't even bother getting back inside the house. I drove straight to a law firm.

With the video and the audio recordings, the lawyer started drafting up a divorce agreement—60% of the assets to me and a lawsuit to get those she should've shared with me as her husband.

By the time Ellen made it home, limping, there wasn't even a shred of sympathy on my face.

Instead, I pushed the divorce papers in front of her.

"Just sign the damn thing, and we're over."