Chapter 3
Fame may seem intangible, but it brings very real benefits.
The revenue of my practice skyrocketed.
There’s a saying: “A man’s confidence and status come from money.”
Because I was earning more, my position at home also rose. I felt more secure and was almost certain Olivia wouldn’t cheat. But reality slapped me hard in the face…
The day after I first noticed something off, I picked her up from work and hugged her as usual.
The seed of doubt had been planted in my mind about her clothes. Seeing her suspiciously clean outfit again, I slipped a lighter into her coat pocket without hesitation.
Then I pretended nothing had happened and cheerfully took her out to dinner.
During the meal, she went to the bathroom once for a full ten minutes. When she came back, she looked uneasy.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing, just some work stuff,” she replied.
“Do you need to go back to campus?”
“No, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
We were both putting on an act - me playing the clueless husband, her selling the ‘stressed about work’ story.
When we got home, she took off her coat and grabbed her phone to shower. I felt in her coat pocket - the lighter was gone.
Classic guilty behavior.
I tiptoed to the bathroom door. First I heard the ‘ding’ of an incoming SnapChat message, then her lowered voice, sounding annoyed:
“Who else would it be? No need to explain! … I’m at home, we’ll talk tomorrow!”
My heart sank.
Before we got married, we had both expressed the same view: “Zero tolerance for cheating, no compromises.”
I backed away, poured myself a drink, and sat on the couch pondering my next move…
We don’t have kids, so divorce would only involve dividing assets.
Apart from our fixed assets - house, car, collectibles and savings - Olivia manages all our joint finances. She handles the stocks, funds and insurance policies. All the linked bank cards are with her. I hardly ever ask about it…
“Honey, what made you decide to have a drink tonight?” Olivia came out of the bathroom, toweling her hair.
“Just to set the mood,” I raised my glass in her direction, with a hint of invitation. “I saw you go straight to shower when you got home, so I thought you… Or am I wrong?”
“You’re right,” she straddled my lap and kissed me, arms around my neck.
Two people with zero interest, both pretending to be in the mood.
I still felt sick to my stomach, like I’d swallowed a dead fly, but I kept reminding myself: “Don’t let her realize I know.”
I’ve seen many divorces. No matter how passionate the couple once was, few remain civil when it comes to dividing assets. Most turn ugly.
I didn’t want to see her ugly side, nor did I want her to see mine. So the best approach was to “elegantly calculate everything in advance.”
I’m a selfish person. I don’t want years of hard work to benefit someone else.