Chapter 2My Husband Begged Me to Cheat on Him

Two years ago, when I first caught Alaric cheating, I felt like I'd fallen into an icy abyss. I uttered just two words: "I want a divorce."

When you truly love someone, you can't tolerate even a speck of dust in your eye. It didn't matter that he knelt in the rain all night, or that he claimed he'd been drugged, set up. I cried all night, but I still couldn't bring myself to forgive him.

My mother slapped me hard. She pointed a finger at me, yelling, "You insisted on marrying him, and now you want to just divorce him? Do you want our whole family to be shamed because of you?"

Seeing my disbelief, she softened her tone, trying to coax me. "Alaric was set up by a scheming woman. Give him another chance, it’s enough."

For a month, Alaric came every day, apologizing and begging for reconciliation. I finally gave in, conceding.

But I couldn't share a bed with him anymore. I just couldn’t get past it.

Alaric saw me, thin as a rail, a walking ghost in such a short time, and wept, heartbroken. He wrote me a promise letter, reported his itinerary daily, and took care of me meticulously.

Yet, less than six months later, I caught him cheating with his secretary. He said he was drunk, mistook her for me. I simply watched him, silently, until he, in a fit of anger, slammed the door and left.

Alaric didn’t beg for my forgiveness this time. He told my parents quite frankly, knowing they would fight his battles for him. My mother accused me of giving him the cold shoulder for six months, which drove him to seek an outlet elsewhere. My father threatened to disown me if I divorced. My brother, whose company Alaric had funded, told me not to be childish, to think about the family.

They made a scene at home, then at my office, until they ran out of options to pressure me. My mother even drank some cleaner and ended up in the emergency room for a stomach pump. She cried, snot and tears streaming down her face.

"Willow Greene, if you still recognize me as your mother, don't mention divorce. Our family relies on this son-in-law! Everyone knows I have a golden goose. If you divorce him, how will people mock our family? You can't be so selfish!"

Alaric’s friends, who used to respectfully call me "the wife," now mockingly advised me. "Come on, Willow, a man at Alaric’s level, who doesn’t have a few 'confidantes' on the side?"

"You just need to be a wealthy lady at home, spending money. No one can ever supersede you. Honestly, he's been very good to you."

"Even if it’s not for yourself, think about your… financially dependent family, right?"

Alaric didn't have to say anything; he'd already made his point.

I compromised again.

This time, my relationship with Alaric plummeted to rock bottom. I treated him like air. After a few failed attempts to engage me, he started coming home later and later. I don’t know how I got through that period. My mind felt clouded, as if I was living behind a glass pane, unable to perceive anything.

Alaric’s third affair. He brought his secretary home. Right there, on the living room sofa, they'd just finished. His collar was still unbuttoned, revealing fresh, crimson hickeys.

"Why won't you divorce me?" I asked him.

He lit a cigarette, his features softened by the haze, and sighed with a weary helplessness. "Willow, we're at this age, don't be so naive. Even if I agree to a divorce, your parents won't. I'm doing this for your own good."

"They say the first thing a blind man does when he regains his sight is discard his cane. I haven't. Even if I don't need it, I'll keep it safe. So you can continue to be my wealthy wife. We may not have love, but we have family ties."

I actually laughed. "So you finally admit you don't love me?"

Alaric looked at me for a long time, his thin lips curving into a playful smirk. "Yes, I have to admit, even the strongest feelings fade with time. Now, when I see your tears, I feel nothing. Just annoyance."