A Stranger in My Marriage

After seven years of marriage, my wife had rarely asked me to accompany her back to her parents' home. She always said she didn't want me stepping into that cramped, crowded little house and feeling wronged.

This year, during the New Year, I happened to be in the city where my in-laws lived for a business trip. By chance, I came across a local video online. It was posted by a resident of an upscale neighborhood.

"Mom, Dad, my beloved wife and son—thank you for giving an orphan like me a complete and happy life."

The elderly couple in the video were dressed in the same high-end outfits I had bought for my in-laws.

I thought of how frugal they had always been, how they lived simply and spared every penny. A decision formed in my mind: tomorrow, I would buy them a place in that very neighborhood, in their name, so they could enjoy a comfortable retirement. It would be my small act of filial piety.

But the next day, the moment I stepped into the residential complex, I saw my in-laws coming downstairs—with my wife and a child.

Could it be that my wife had secretly bought them an apartment?

I pressed my lips together, about to step forward, when a man rushed over and caught my father-in-law just as he nearly stumbled. "Dad, careful now."

My footsteps froze.

My wife was an only child. I had never heard of any foster relatives.

He called my father-in-law "Dad."

Then… who was I?

Almost instinctively, I pulled out my phone and checked my browsing history for the video from last night.

In it, the side profiles of the two elderly people were identical to the faces of my in-laws standing before me now. If the clip hadn't flashed by so quickly, I would have recognized them right away.

And in other videos—those fleeting, fragmented moments—my wife, Cynthia Muller, appeared again and again, holding a child in her arms.

The little boy called her "Mom" with intimate affection. Under a sky lit by fireworks, the man held her close and kissed her.

Each short clip drove a blade straight into my chest.

That same man had reposted a thread asking, "What's your greatest achievement so far?"

In the comments, he'd written:

"My greatest achievement is stealing a rich man's wife, putting a cuckold's horns on him, getting her to bear my son—and even making her abort his child.

"That idiot still thinks he has a perfect, happy family. Every day, he works his ass off, full of motivation, earning money for the three of us.

"Every time I see his listed company's stock go up, I'm over the moon. All that money will belong to me and my son one day!"

I stood frozen, my entire body trembling.

A surge of rage—raw, violent, born of betrayal—rose from the pit of my chest.

I rushed forward and grabbed Cynthia by the arm.

"Didn't you tell me you were on a business trip? What are you doing here?"

She turned at the sound of my voice. The anger on her face vanished, replaced instantly by panic. Forcing a smile, she stammered,

"Johnny… what are you doing here? I… I just thought since it's almost New Year, I'd stop by to see my parents after finishing my work…"

Before she could finish, I cut her off.

"Then why are you here in this neighborhood? And why did that man just call him 'Dad'?"

I narrowed my eyes, studying the man in front of me. Something about him felt familiar. A fragment of memory surfaced—

He had been at our wedding.

Back then, he'd stared at my wife with a lingering, almost obsessive gaze that had made me deeply uncomfortable. But since he never appeared again afterward, I had nearly forgotten about him.

So they had a past.

And suddenly, I remembered the pain and sorrow on Cynthia's face on our wedding night. I had thought she was just unwell from drinking too much. Turns out, she simply couldn't forget her old lover.

"Speak!" The humiliation of being played for a fool crashed over me, and I roared at her.

She wrenched her arm free. "Why are you yelling at me? I came with my parents to visit Bobby. He bought a place in this neighborhood.

"Our families have known each other for generations. He even acknowledged my parents as his godparents when he was little. Is that a problem?

"Are you insane? Traveling all this way just to scream at me like a lunatic?"

If I hadn't just seen those videos and learned the truth, I might have been deceived by her righteous, indignant act.

A wave of bitter absurdity filled my chest. I stared at her coldly and said nothing.

My mother-in-law rushed forward and slapped me across the face.

"Johnny, I thought you were considerate and gentle with Cynthia. Even though you're always busy with work and rarely spend time with her, I never said a word.

"And now, over something baseless, you're questioning my daughter's loyalty? Are you even a man?"