My Husband’s Mistress Wore My Bracelet with Pride

I sent a confirmation message to my supervisor and signed the five-year contract for the embassy assignment. I also drafted a divorce agreement. My colleagues at the institute, upon seeing me, gathered around with looks of envy.

"Evangeline, we heard that your husband bought you a lovely apartment in Italy. He's really good to you, isn’t he?”

"Yeah, having someone who’s rich and good-looking is one thing, but for him to be so devoted and loving as well – that's truly something special.”

I used to hear comments like these often, but now they left a bitter taste in my mouth. The more they talked about Julian's deep love for me, the more I realized how empty his affection truly was.

Then Rowena approached, her arrogance on full display as she taunted me.

"I heard you and Mr. Rivera never had kids, right?"

"Men usually prefer women who are more outgoing and appealing. Evangeline, you’re too traditional. Easy to be cast aside, you know."

She made sure I noticed her flaunting a pricey Rolex bracelet. I had recently seen the purchase record for this very bracelet in Julian’s pocket. I’d thought it was a gift for our wedding anniversary and had even picked out a pair of cufflinks for him in return.

But on our anniversary, all I received was a necklace. He claimed the bracelet he originally bought for me got lost. With a wry smile, I realized it had "gotten lost" onto Rowena’s wrist.

My eyes stung, but I met her triumphant gaze with calm sarcasm, "Miss Cox, maybe you should first worry if your boyfriend already has a wife."

Her face turned pale, and she stormed off angrily.

Not long after she left, I received a message from Julian: [Honey, something came up at work. I’ll send the driver to pick you up later.]

Standing by the large window, I watched the familiar car parked below. It was Julian’s. Then I saw Rowena get into the car, and soon enough, it began to rock violently on the spot.

He couldn’t even wait to take her somewhere else before indulging in their antics right here at the institute.

Rowena sent me a link; I clicked on it to see footage from a surveillance camera inside the car. The scene was crass, Rowena’s black stockings torn, and the floor littered with torn packets.

Clinging to Julian, she asked loudly towards the camera, "Aren't I more fun than Evangeline? Those scars on her back must be so disgusting. Surely I’m better, right?"

Burying himself into her, Julian replied with raw intensity, "Don’t you dare compare yourself to her! You don’t get to speak about her!"

"Even if her scars are unsightly, I’d endure anything for her!"

Slowly, I reached back to touch the burn scar on my back. It was a reminder from a time I saved Julian, after which he held me tightly and sought out the best specialists to treat me. Every time we were intimate, he would gently kiss the scar.

With fervent devotion, he’d say, "Love, you’ve suffered too much for me; I’ll never do anything to hurt you again in this life."

Yet, he had done just that. The scar he once cried over was something he had to force himself to endure.

Unable to continue watching, I closed my phone with trembling hands.