The Price of Betrayal,Leaving My Past Behind

I was hospitalized due to severe morning sickness. Lying in the hospital bed, I scrolled through my social media out of pure boredom. I saw my favorite photography influencer share a new set of photos. The caption read: 【Looking for this couple who had an argument on the snowy mountain.】 【The atmospheric shots you all requested are finally here.】 Curiosity got the better of me. I clicked on the post, just wanting to see what the buzz was about. But when I saw the matching scarves wrapped around their necks in the photo, a sharp, cramping pain suddenly tore through my lower abdomen. Those were the bear-patterned scarves I had spent half a month knitting. I had given them to the two most important people in my life. One went to my husband, Ethan, and the other to my best friend, Sarah. In the photo, a man wearing a black parka, sunglasses, and a face mask was kneeling on one knee, his posture humble. The woman with curly hair stood over him, her arms crossed, head turned away, looking like she was pouting and complaining. With the photographer’s expert shot and the stunning snowy mountain in the background, the photo was brimming with "vibes." It quickly drew envious comments from netizens: 【Report! I was actually there. This guy didn't take a good picture of his girlfriend, and he got yelled at hard without saying a word in his own defense.】 【After his girlfriend slapped him, he even knelt there begging her to hit him a few more times.】 【Whoa, did he like getting hit? This is basically a reward for him, right? Don't love her too much, seriously.】 The overwhelming envy in the comments made it hard for me to breathe. Like someone addicted to self-harm, I used my fingers to zoom in on the photos. I searched back and forth, over and over, looking for any clues. The slightly worn Cartier watch on the man's right wrist. That was a birthday gift I bought for Ethan before we were married. There was a yellow stain on the side of the woman's white sneakers that wouldn't wash out. That was from when Sarah and I went hiking and accidentally stepped in dog poop. The matching bear-patterned scarves around their necks. I had stayed up until 3:00 AM knitting those after dance practice. One bear was missing ears. The other was missing a leg. Everything they were wearing bore traces I knew too well. It couldn't be a coincidence. My heart tightened, dropping straight into my stomach, and I broke into a cold sweat. The familiar wave of nausea surged again. I frantically ripped out my IV and threw up into the trash can until there was nothing left. Everything went black before my eyes. The nurse rushed in to steady me. "Ms. Su, your body is extremely weak right now. You need twenty-four-hour care." "Where is your family?" Family? My only legal family, Ethan, said he was going on a business trip abroad yesterday. The other, Sarah, whom I’d always treated like my own sister, said she was going back home to visit her parents yesterday. But I never imagined that the two people who were so distant and polite to me would both end up on a snowy mountain behind my back. A dull ache throbbed where the needle had been in my hand. It pulsed in time with my racing heart, filled with chaos. I forced a weak smile onto my pale lips. "Could you please help me hire a caregiver? Thank you." I lay back on the bed, gently stroking my still-flat stomach. It held the fruit of Ethan’s and my love. Barely a month along. I was supposed to tell him the good news in a few days. But now, I felt lost and confused. I even began to wonder. Should I keep this little life? Refusing to give up, I picked up my phone and frantically searched the comments section again. Finally, in the latest reply, I saw someone write: 【Thanks for the photos, photographer. My girlfriend has been cheered up. I'll improve my photography skills from now on and absolutely won't make her angry again.】 The account ID was "Thanks for giving me a home." The tone was just like Ethan's.There were many replies under the comment, all full of praise: 【The man himself is here! His profile is full of travel photos with his girlfriend. So sweet.】 【You can tell just from their backs they're a gorgeous couple. A perfect match.】 【His girlfriend is a classical dancer, too. So elegant.】 My breath hitched. Like me, Sarah was a classical ballet dancer. My fingers clicked onto the profile without my control. The photos of the man and woman’s intimate backs made my eyes sting. I had hugged and measured Ethan’s broad shoulders countless times. I couldn't be wrong. And Sarah. That lazy, curly hairstyle? We went to the salon together to get it done. I didn't usually pay much attention to hair care, but Sarah insisted on dragging me along. She whispered to me, blushing: "Yana, a woman dresses to please her lover. Men love the scent of a woman's long hair. I guarantee that once you get this done, your husband will be obsessed with you." I was in the middle of a cold war with Ethan at the time. Because a competition was approaching, I was rehearsing day and night. Aside from dance practice, eating, and sleeping, I couldn't even spare an hour for him. He was very disappointed. He hadn't come home for a month, and his replies had gradually dwindled from five words to one or two. "Yeah." "Okay." Our marriage had gradually grown dull. I was tempted by what Sarah said, so I just went along with it. Giving Ethan a surprise to mend our relationship sounded like a good opportunity. When we got to the salon, I suggested that Sarah and I get the same hairstyle. But she suddenly lost her smile, her voice flat: "Sure, let’s both use this shampoo. It’s really good." At the time, I didn't notice Sarah being unhappy; I thought she really had my best interests at heart. So, I followed her suggestion. That night, I went home, put on sexy lingerie, and crawled into Ethan’s bed. He was surprised at first, and his expression was complicated when he saw my hair. But he didn't turn me away. Afterward, I lay on his chest, drenched in sweat. "You're not mad anymore, right?" I could tell Ethan was more passionate tonight than he had been in a long time. He even showed a possessiveness and dominance I’d never seen before. He didn't answer directly, though. Instead, he twisted my long hair around his fingertip, took a deep breath of it, and spoke in a voice that was indescribably sexy and alluring: "You got your hair done?" My body felt tingly and happy; I couldn't stop the corners of my mouth from curling up. Sarah was right; Ethan really did love this scent. "Yeah, Sarah took me." A flash of indulgence I didn't catch crossed Ethan’s eyes: "It's very fragrant. It smells so good." He even went a few more rounds, torturing me until I was delirious. The cold war with Ethan ended because of that night of intimacy. But only today did I realize. His tenderness that night wasn't because he loved me. It was because he loved the scent in my hair. That scent had everything to do with Sarah.Tears hit my phone without warning. I bit my hand hard, terrified of sobbing out loud. Memories flooded back. Sarah and I grew up together in the orphanage since we were little. I was quiet and reserved, while she was sunny and bright. Yet, two people so completely different became best friends. When the older kids at the orphanage bullied and ostracized me, Sarah would stay by my side and tell me stories from "The Little Prince". "Don't be sad, I'll stay with you." When others put mud in our food, Sarah would share her lunch with me and report them to the director just to get even. "They're all jerks. One day, I’ll shred their bedsheets!" When the only toy my mother left me—a little panda—was secretly torn apart by some boys, Sarah used her own pocket money to buy me a new one. "Here, a new one for you. Exactly the same." After being abandoned by my parents, Sarah was my only family. So, the day I was adopted, I knelt before the director and my foster parents, begging desperately: "Sarah and I are like sisters. If she’s not going, I’m not going either." The director was in a tough spot. Even though Sarah had a personality that was more likable than anyone else there, fate was cruel. Sarah just happened to be the daughter of a murderer. Couples who came to the orphanage would always spot her first, but after seeing her file, they’d shake their heads helplessly. Then, they’d adopt a child whose personality was ten times worse. At night, I’d hold Sarah, wiping away her silent tears. I’d kiss her cheek and promise: "It’s their bad taste. But I will always, always stay with you." "Pinky swear, and it won't change for a hundred years." So even though my foster parents' family situation was very good, and I could have easily changed my fate, I would never abandon Sarah. But why, now, did she choose to hurt me like this? "Ding." A new post appeared a second later. I was pulled back to reality and frantically clicked it. My mind went blank, and my heart plummeted. 【Traveling with my baby is the only ray of light in my desolate life.】 In the photo, those two pairs of hands—which I had touched, held, and linked with—were clasped tightly together. I stared at the 1,023 sweet travel photos on Ethan’s page. Rippling green mountains and clear waters. Silent, desolate deserts and high mountains. White walls, black tiles, and the Cangshan Mountains and Erhai Lake. ... Those were all places Ethan had never taken me. My heart was pierced, bleeding profusely. The perfect world I had built for myself came crashing down. I booked a plane ticket immediately, ignoring the doctor's advice, and headed for the snowy mountains.There was a location tag on Ethan’s post. It was 3:00 AM when I reached the hotel where they were staying. I parked the car. Suddenly, I felt scared. I didn't dare to go up. I curled up in the car, staring into space all night. Horrible images filled my mind; my thoughts were a mess. At 7:00 AM, with dark circles under my eyes, I stared intently at everyone and every car entering and leaving the hotel. Finally, Ethan and Sarah appeared, holding hands, laughing and talking. My heart fell into the abyss, shattering completely. Like a dark, twisted stalker, I followed them. I became the third wheel, witnessing my own husband’s love life firsthand. In the restaurant, they snuggled up sweetly, feeding each other, knowing exactly what the other liked and disliked. On the side of the road, they walked hand in hand, kissing boldly and passionately like any ordinary couple, with no regard for anyone else. They even hugged in front of the Potala Palace, promising to love only each other for the rest of their lives. Then Ethan knelt and proposed, confessing deeply to Sarah: "Sarah, I’ve failed you in this life. You’ve followed me and suffered without even having a name." "If there’s a next life, I hope I meet you before I meet Yana. Then I can spoil you and cherish you, and not let you suffer even a little bit." "Sarah, I love you. Till death do us part." The bustling wind carried his vows to my ears. Yet, in my mind, I saw the scene where Ethan proposed to me. He had knelt on one knee just like that, holding an expensive diamond ring: "Yana, meeting you is the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to me." "You’re the one who taught me what a heartbeat is, what love is. Yana, will you marry me?" "I love you. Till death do us part." So, vows aren't just meant for one person. They can be mass-produced. So cheap and wretched. Ethan’s words about regretting meeting me completely crushed the last hope I had for this relationship. After Ethan slid the diamond ring—the one symbolizing eternal commitment—onto Sarah’s finger, I stepped out from behind them, smiling, my tone calm. "Ethan, let's get a divorce."