No Bonuses for My Cheating Husband

At two in the morning, I heard my husband, David, on the balcony. He was on the phone. Babe, that old witch is checking on me again. Its so annoying. Once my project bonus comes in next month, Ill buy you that bag.

But just three days ago, he had told me the bonus was canceled and asked me to cut back on spending.

I didnt make a scene. Instead, I went to the bank the next day to see my best friend, Ashley.

When she printed out the financial statements, the truth stared me in the face.

He hadnt just lied to me. He had also taken out over two hundred thousand dollars in shady online loans just to keep that woman happy.

When his mother found out, her first reaction was, "Well, men will wander. Its normal."

A month later, in the bank's VIP room, I finished reading the very last line of the transaction history. I looked up at him.

"That project bonus youre getting next month... is it even enough to cover this massive hole?"

It was 2:03 AM.

I heard the sound of a key sliding into the lock.

Our bedroom door wasnt fully closed. A thin sliver of light from the hallway crept in through the crack.

My back was turned to the door. I stayed on my side, keeping my breathing slow and steady, pretending to be asleep.

Davids footsteps crossed the living room. Instead of coming into the bedroom, he went straight to the balcony.

He pulled the balcony door shut. The double-paned glass muffled his voice into a low hum.

I opened my eyes, staring at the shadow shifting on the curtains.

He was on the phone.

I quietly turned over and pressed my ear against the pillow. In the dead silence of the night, I could faintly make out a few words.

"Babe... I miss you too..."

My heart sank a little, but it didnt completely break.

After all these years, this wasn't the first time hed said things like this.

Whenever he drank too much and bragged with his friends, hed say anything.

Just last month, at a dinner party, he told someone, "That old witch at home? I can't get rid of her even if I wanted to." I was sitting right next to him. I heard every word.

But I swallowed my pride.

Im forty-two. What would a divorce even get me?

Our son just started middle school, which is a crucial time for him. Davids mother, Martha, is in poor health and constantly in and out of the hospital. If I leave, whos going to take care of her?

I ran through all these excuses in my head, preparing to go back to sleep.

Then, I heard the next sentence.

"The old witch is checking up on me again. Its so annoying."

"Don't worry. Once my project bonus comes in next month, Ill buy you that designer bag."

My hands clenched into fists under the blanket.

Project bonus.

Next month.

Just two days ago, he told me the company was doing poorly. He said all quarterly bonuses, year-end bonuses, and project bonuses were canceled.

He told me to watch our budget. He asked me to hold off on our son's tutoring classes and said we shouldn't replace our five-year-old refrigerator just yet.

I believed him.

I even felt bad for him, telling him he worked too hard and that we didn't need to worry about money.

The balcony door slid open. Footsteps moved toward the bedroom.

I closed my eyes, adjusted my breathing, loosened my fists, and went back to my sleeping posture.

David walked in, smelling of cheap cologne, alcohol, and stale cigarettes.

He stood by the bed for a few seconds.

I could feel him looking at me.

Then he yawned and headed to the bathroom.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

His words kept looping in my head. The bathroom door opened, David climbed into bed, and within two minutes, he was snoring loudly.

I kept my eyes open until dawn.

The next morning, I got up and made breakfast as usual.

David loves fresh bagels. Every weekend, I get up early to buy them from the bakery down the street.

He got up at 8:30, sat at the dining table in his pajamas, and took a bite of his bagel.

"Its Saturday. Why did you get up so early?"

"Just used to it," I said, placing his coffee in front of him. "Is that project bonus from your company really completely canceled?"

His hand paused mid-air, then he kept chewing.

"Completely gone. Not a single penny. Finance said well have to wait until next year to see."

"They didn't keep any of it?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" He slammed the bagel onto the table.

"I said its gone, so its gone! Are you auditing me now?"

Our son poked his head out of his room. "Dad, why are you yelling?"

David glared at me, grabbed his jacket, and walked out the door.

The door slammed shut with a loud bang.

My son looked at me. "Mom, what is Dads problem today?"

"Nothing," I said, taking his plate. "Finish up and go do your homework."

That afternoon, I went to the bank to see my best friend.

Ashley received me in the private VIP room. Seeing the look on my face, she asked, "Whats wrong, Vivian?"

"I need you to check something for me."

"What is it?"

"Davids transaction history."

Ashley froze for a second. She didn't ask why. She just turned on her computer.

Three minutes later, she stared at the screen, hesitating to speak.

"Just tell me," I said. "I can handle it."

She turned the monitor toward me.

For the past three months, the transaction history on Davids primary salary account was clean.

But there was another credit cardone I never knew existed. Its transaction history was packed.

Every Wednesday, a luxury hotel: $698.

Every Wednesday, a high-end restaurant: $488.

From the 15th to the 18th of last month, a trip to a nearby resort town: train tickets, hotels, and tourist spots, totaling over $6,000.

And last week, a charge at a luxury boutique: 0-03,800.

Ashley looked at me and asked softly, "Do you want me to keep scrolling?"

"Keep going."

She scrolled down.

Last Saturdaythe exact day I told him we could hold off on buying a new refrigeratorthere was a charge at a jewelry store: $8,800.

I stared at that number for a long time.

"Ashley," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. "I need you to do me a favor."

On Wednesday at 5:00 PM, David changed into a sportswear set, grabbed his tennis gear, and headed out.

"I'm playing tennis with Marcus and the guys. Ill be back late."

I stood by the kitchen door, watching him change his shoes.

"What time will you be back?"

"Depends. Probably around eight or nine," he replied without looking up. "Don't wait up for dinner."

The door closed.

I walked to the window and watched him walk downstairs, get into his car, and drive off.

The car turned east.

The tennis club was to the west.

I pulled out my phone and sent a Snapchat message to his buddy, Marcus:

"Hey Marcus, is David playing tennis with you guys today? What time do you think you'll finish? Im planning dinner."

Two minutes later, Marcus replied:

"Tennis? No, I'm working overtime today. We didn't schedule anything. Did he get the days mixed up?"

I put my phone down.

I walked into the bedroom, opened the closet, and pulled out a black dress from the very backone I had bought two years ago but never wore.

At 6:00 PM, I arrived at the hotel.

The lobby was quiet. Soft piano music drifted from a corner.

I found a seat in the lounge area, directly facing the elevators.

At 6:23 PM, David walked out of the elevator.

He had changed out of his sportswear. He was wearing a casual designer suit I had never seen before. His hair was perfectly styled with gel.

His arm was wrapped around a woman.

She was much younger than him, wearing a tight red dress, holding a handbagthe exact 0-03,800 bag from the statement.

They walked toward the exit, laughing and talking.

David leaned in, whispering into her ear. The woman giggled, playfully pushing him away and tapping his chest.

I sat in the lounge, completely still.

They walked right past me, barely three yards away. Neither of them looked in my direction.

They pushed the glass doors open and got into a taxi waiting outside.

I took out my phone and snapped a photo of them.

At 9:40 PM, David came home.

He was back in his sportswear. His hair was slightly damp, looking like he had just showered.

"How was the game?" I asked.

"Not bad. Got a good sweat in," he said, tossing his tennis bag by the door.

"Marcuss game is getting worse and worse."

"Did you eat? I saved some dinner for you."

"Yeah, I grabbed a steak with Marcus and the guys."

I nodded and went back to watching TV.

He walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

I opened my phone, pulled up the photo of the red dress, the 0-03,800 bag, his profile, and her smile.

I pressed delete.

The following Wednesday, I followed him to the same hotel.

At 5:40 PM, he left his office. Instead of coming home, he took a cab straight to the hotel.

At 6:00 PM sharp, the woman arrived.

I sat in the coffee shop across the street, watching them walk into the lobby together through the window.

An hour later, I received a text from David: "Having dinner with Marcus and the guys tonight. Back late."

I didn't reply.

That night at 11:00 PM, he returned, quietly opening the door.

I lay in bed, keeping my breathing steady.

He made a few calls in the living room, whispering.

I only caught one sentence: "Next time I go on a business trip, lets go somewhere further."

Business trip.

I closed my eyes, repeating those words in my mind.

The next day, I went back to Ashley's bank.

"Help me check something," I said, sliding Davids ID number across the desk.

"All of his travel bookings for the next three months."

Ashley looked at me, asked no questions, and started typing.

Ten minutes later, she handed me a printout.

Next month, from the 15th to the 18th. Miami. Two round-trip tickets. A hotel room with a king-sized bed.

I folded the paper and slipped it into my purse.

"Ashley," I said. "The plan we talked about last time? We can start preparing now."

My mother-in-law, Martha, came over on a Saturday afternoon.

I was washing dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. David answered it.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed to visit?" Marthas voice drifted from the living room.

"I came to see my grandson. Is that a crime?"

I dried my hands and walked out of the kitchen.

Martha was already sitting on the sofa, with two plastic bags of groceries beside her.

She nodded at me. "Vivian, David said you haven't been feeling well lately. I came to check on you."

I glanced at David.

He was staring at his phone, refusing to make eye contact.

"Im fine," I said. "Have a seat. Let me get you some water."

"No need, no need," Martha waved her hand. "Im not thirsty."

"David, when is your project bonus coming in? Your brother Justin needs the money."

My hand holding the water glass froze.

David looked up. "Mom, I told you, the bonus was canceled. I didn't get a dime."

"Canceled?" Marthas voice went up an octave.

"How could it be canceled? Justin already made arrangements. Hes renovating his place after the holidays, and hes just short of this cash."

"It really was canceled. Why would I lie to you?"

"Then figure something else out!" Martha slapped the armrest of the sofa.

"Justin can't delay this. The contractors are pushing him."

I walked over and placed the glass of water in front of Martha.

"Martha, have some water."

She took the glass, took a sip, and looked at me.

"Vivian, can you think of something? Don't you still have that old condo?"

I looked at her.

"What condo?"

"The one your mother left you," Martha said.

"Its just sitting there empty anyway. Why not sell it to help David's brother?"

David looked up at me.

I didn't look back at him.

I said, "Martha, that condo was left to me by my mother. Its not empty. Im keeping it."

"But you dont live there," Martha set her glass down.

"Why keep it? Were family, Vivian. Davids brother is your brother. What's wrong with helping out?"

David finally spoke up. "Mom, stop it."

"What did I say wrong?" Martha glared at him.

"If Justin ends up single for the rest of his life because of this, Im holding you responsible."

I untied my apron and hung it on the wall.

"Martha, we can talk about the condo later. Is there any other reason you came today?"

Martha blinked, taken aback, then said:

"Nothing else. Just visiting. David, can you drive me home?"

David stood up. "Sure, lets go."

He grabbed his car keys, glanced at me, and said nothing.

The door closed.

I stood in the living room for a long time.

At around nine that night, David returned.

As soon as he walked in, he slammed his car keys onto the shoe rack.

"What was your problem today?"

I was sitting on the sofa watching TV. I didn't turn around.

"What do you mean?"

"The way you reacted when my mother brought up the condo. What kind of attitude was that?"

I turned down the TV volume.

"What kind of attitude did you expect?"

"Thats my mother," he walked over to stand in front of me. "Whats wrong with her making a suggestion?"

I looked up at him.

"David, your mother wants to sell the condo my mom left me just so your brother can renovate his house and get married."

"How do you think I should react? Should I get on my knees and thank her?"

He paused, his face tightening.

"She was just spitballing. She didn't actually force you to sell it."

"But she said it out loud."

"So what if she did?" His voice grew louder.

"My mother cant even speak her mind now? Why are you being so petty?"

I stood up to face him.

"Im petty?"

"Oh, you're so generous," he sneered.

"If you're so generous, why don't you bring out your mother's condo? Stop acting so high and mighty."

I stared at him.

I had looked at this face for fifteen years.

Right now, he felt like a complete stranger.

"David," I said. "Was the project bonus really canceled?"

His expression stiffened.

"What do you mean?"

"Im asking you. Was the project bonus really canceled?"

He looked away and turned toward the bedroom.

"Yes, it was. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Are you going on a business trip next month?"

He paused.

"Whether I am or not is none of your business."

"Just asking."

He didn't turn back. He walked into the bedroom and slammed the door.

I sat back down on the sofa and kept watching TV.

A family drama was playing on the screen.

A husband and wife were standing on stage, yelling at each other.

The husband had cheated, and the wife wanted a divorce. The host asked the wife, "Do you still love him?" The wife said, "No."

I stared at the screen, watching the woman cry.

But I couldn't shed a single tear.

I took out my phone and sent a Snapchat to Ashley.

"Next month on the 15th. Have that VIP room ready for me. The one by the window."

Ashley replied almost instantly: "Its ready. What about your mother-in-law?"

"I'll handle her."

The 15th of next month. Wednesday.

At 8:00 AM, David took a call right before heading out.

"Yeah, got it. I'll be there by ten. Let's talk in person."

He hung up and adjusted his tie in front of the mirror.

"Im traveling today," he said. "Three or four days. Ill bring you back something."

I was clearing the dining table. I didn't look up.

"Have a safe trip."

He walked to the door, then turned around.

"Don't worry about the fridge. We'll handle it when I get back."

The door closed.

I put down the sponge, walked to the window, and watched his car drive away.

I went back to the bedroom and changed my clothes.

I didn't wear the black dress. Instead, I put on a simple gray coat and black pants.

Then, I called Martha.

"Martha, are you free today?"

"David is away on business. I have to go to the bank to handle some paperwork, can you come with me? We can go shopping afterward."

Martha hesitated on the other end of the line.

"The bank? For what?"

"A family wealth management plan. They say the returns are high, but it requires signatures from both sides of the family."

"Davids out of town, so he asked me to look into it first. I don't really understand these things, can you help me check it out?"

Marthas tone immediately softened. "Sure, what time?"

"10:30 AM. Meet me at the bank entrance."

At 9:50 AM, I arrived at the bank.

Ashley was waiting for me at the entrance of the VIP room. Seeing me alone, she looked surprised.

"Wheres Martha?"

"Shell be here at 10:30. What about him?"

Ashley lowered her voice. "Hes here. Arrived at 9:30. I put him in the adjacent VIP room. The girl didn't show up."

"She doesn't need to."

I walked into the VIP room and sat in the chair by the window.

Through the glass partition, I could clearly see the main lobby outside.

At 10:20 AM, Martha arrived.

She was wearing a bright red coat, her hair freshly permed, looking around the lobby.

I stood up and waved at her.

She saw me and walked over.

"Why are you so early?"

"Just finished some paperwork." I guided her to the sofa.

"Martha, take a seat. The wealth manager will be here shortly to explain the plan to us."

Martha looked around the VIP room, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

"This is nice. A private room, huh? Ive never been in one of these."

"Yes, only premium clients get access."

Martha nodded and began to nag again.

"The contractors are already waiting on Justin's house. They just need the cash."

"If you can figure out this wealth management stuff and make a quick profit, then..."

She stopped mid-sentence.

The door to the VIP room was pushed open.

David stood at the doorway.

He looked at me, then at his mother, his expression switching through various shades of panic.

"What are you doing here?"

I didn't answer.

A bank teller behind him said politely:

"Mr. Cooper, right this way, please. Your reserved VIP room is next door."

David didn't move.

He stared at me, his eyes filled with panic and suspicion.

"Vivian, what are you doing here?"

Martha chimed in:

"She's here to look into a family wealth plan. It requires signatures from both sides."

"Aren't you supposed to be on a business trip? Why are you here?"

Davids face drained of color.

He opened his mouth to speak, but right then, Ashley walked in holding a stack of documents.

She smiled and nodded at me, then turned to David.

"Vivian, Mr. Cooper, since youre both here, lets just handle this together. Itll save you another trip."

She placed the documents on the table.

Right on top was a bank statement.

Under David's name.

Packed with transaction records.

Ashley sat down, flipped open the statement, and circled a few lines with her pen.

"Mr. Cooper, lets review your transaction history first. We need this for our standard risk assessment."

She pointed to the first item.

"This transaction, last Wednesday, at a luxury hotel, $698. Was this authorized by you?"

Davids throat tightened.

"Yes."

"Great." Ashley pointed to the next one.

"This one, the 18th of last month, a jewelry store, $8,800. Was this also you?"

Beads of sweat began to form on Davids forehead.

Martha looked completely confused and leaned in to get a closer look.

"What charges? David, what did you buy?"

Ashley didn't stop. She pointed to the next one.

"This one, from the 15th to the 18th of last month. Flights to Miami and hotel bookings, totaling $6,800."

"Two passengers. Was the other passenger a family member?"

Davids face turned paper-white.

His mouth hung open, but no sound came out.

Ashley raised her head, looking perfectly "surprised."

"According to our system records, your primary salary account doesn't seem to support such frequent high-end spending."

"Can you explain the source of these funds? We need this for risk compliance."

The VIP room fell dead silent for three seconds.

Then, I spoke.

I picked up the statement and looked at the numbers.

"David, didn't you say the project bonus was canceled?"

"What did you buy for $8,800? And this $698 hotel stay... was that on Wednesday when you were supposed to be playing tennis?"

My voice wasn't loud, but it was crystal clear.

Martha finally put the pieces together. She snatched the statement from the table.

She squinted at the paper for a moment, then looked up at David.

"David, who is this woman?"

David's lips trembled. "Mom, its not what you think..."

"I asked you who this woman is!"

Marthas voice shrieked, drawing stares from people in the main lobby.

Through the glass wall of the adjacent VIP room, a few neighbors who were waiting in line craned their necks to see what was happening.

David stood there, his face flushing red and then turning pale.

He looked at me, then at his mother, and then at the growing crowd outside the glass door.

His lips parted, but he couldn't find his voice.

I took the statement back from his mother's hand, turned to the next page, and looked at the numbers.

I read them out in a clear voice, loud enough for the neighbors outside to hear.

"Last Wednesday, luxury hotel, $698."

"The Wednesday before that, same hotel, $698."

"The 18th of last month, jewelry store, $8,800."

"The 15th of last month, two tickets to Miami..."

David finally found his voice.

"That's enough!"

He lunged forward to grab the paper, but his mother grabbed his arm.

"What do you think youre doing!" Martha glared at him. "Let her finish!"

I kept reading.

"Last Saturday, high-end restaurant, $488. Last Saturday, luxury hotel, $698..."

The neighbors outside the glass partition began whispering to each other.

"Isn't that our neighbor, David Cooper?"

"Is that his wife? Did he cheat?"

"Look at those statements. All those hotels. Its pretty obvious."

David was completely paralyzed.

He stood there like a statue, all expression wiped from his face.

I finished reading the last line and put the paper down.

I looked up at him.