After Three Years of Marriage, My Husband Cheated

In the third year of our marriage, Harold Gray found himself a lover. He fought against his entire family for her, even leaving the Gray family behind to build his own business from scratch. People said he’d lost his mind, but he simply took a drag from his cigarette, gazing into the night sky with a faint smile. “Ashley is my life. If I lose her, what does it matter if I have everything else?”

Then he turned to me, his eyes searching. “What do you think, Sara?”

I felt the weight of his words as I quietly walked away. But suddenly, he panicked, grabbing my arm and forcing a cigarette into my hand.

“Sara, the old me is gone. I’m giving you this new life of mine.”

I coughed, the smoke choking me, making me feel sick to my stomach. It’s just a worthless life, I thought. There’s no need to pretend it’s something valuable.

——

Harold later introduced me to his new lover. Her name is Ashley Evans—a top student from Oxford University, both adorable, with an innocent smile. Her dimples are like glasses of fine wine, so intoxicating that they make you forget yourself when you look at her.

She really is stunning.

So when Harold told me she’d be staying by his side from now on, I wasn’t surprised.

But I never expected that he wouldn’t divorce me. Instead, Ashley would move in, and the three of us would live together. I laughed out of sheer disbelief.

"I don't have such poor taste," I said.

Harold’s voice turned icy. "Sara, this family isn’t for you to control."

Of course, he was right. I was raised by the Gray family, and if it hadn’t been for the engagement arranged when we were children, I wouldn’t have been standing here now, in front of Harold. Over the years, the Walter family had fallen into decline, and the Gray family had more than kept their promise. I was supposed to be grateful—to behave properly.

So, I smiled and nodded. "Then what more is expected of me?"

Harold suddenly smashed the vase next to him, sending shards flying across the floor. "Why are you being so sarcastic? I made it clear when I married you—it was just to deal with my older brother."

"For three years, you’ve shamelessly clung to me, never once thinking of leaving. Isn’t it only fair that you step aside now that I’ve found someone?"

So, that was it. They wanted me to move out and give them the space to be together.

I said, "This isn't something we can decide on our own. Go talk to my older brother. If he agrees, I'll move."

I turned to leave, but Harold suddenly yelled, "Are you out of your mind?"

His words jolted me back to reality. As I took a step, I realized a shard of glass had pierced through my shoe and embedded itself into my foot. The blood was bright red, but I barely noticed.

"Get it bandaged," he said.

I almost thanked him.

Then he added, "And don’t mention this to my brother. I don’t want to deal with him."

I bit back the pain and replied, "Okay."

As we headed upstairs, Ashley spoke up, her voice filled with confusion. "Mr. Li, didn’t you say your wife was lifeless? But she seems so strong and resilient to me."

"Why is she acting so strange? I studied psychology, and this looks like a classic case of someone oppressed and silently enduring humiliation. Has she suffered in the Gray family all these years? Have you treated her poorly?"

Harold’s voice tightened, his anger barely contained. "She’s just being dramatic. She’s been like this ever since she lost the baby. It’s pathetic. All she does is mope around half-dead, and it’s sickening."

The child—our first and only—belonged to Harold and me. But Harold never wanted to marry me. He was forced into it, pressured by his elder brother, Anton.

In the second year of our marriage, Anton Gray, frustrated by Harold's reckless behavior, demanded that he have a child to settle down. One night, after drinking heavily, he stormed into my bedroom, pulling off his tie without a word.

I tried to stop him, saying, "I can handle your brother; we don’t have to force this."

But Harold just looked at me, his voice filled with bitterness. "The biggest compromise of my life was marrying you."

That night was my first time—and our first time together. The experience was far from pleasant. The process was rough, and the outcome was just as bad. I was tossed and turned all night, yet I didn’t conceive.

Then it kept happening—over and over again, whenever his mood struck. Sometimes it was in the living room, other times in the kitchen, or even in places separated by a wall from where guests sat.

Each time, he would say, "Sara, you have no right to feel ashamed. You already did the most shameless thing—marrying me."

With every incident, my heart grew colder and colder.

Fortunately, not long after, I became pregnant.

Then one day, by pure chance, I fell down the stairs. As searing pain gripped my lower abdomen, and I felt myself slipping closer to death, I saw Harold standing nearby—cold, distant, and unmoved.

He hadn’t pushed me, but he was there, watching. If he had just reached out—if he’d even made the slightest effort to help—I could have caught my balance, grabbed the railing, and avoided the fall.

But he didn’t.

At that moment, my heart died for him.

I once thought that Harold and I would continue like this, living out our days in a twisted coexistence, hating each other until old age finally took us.

But that was clearly impossible.

I took a deep breath, resigning myself.

Forget it. Who cares about the recklessness of youth or the chaos it brings?

Harold and I can barely bring up the fact that we grew up together. It’s not like we were childhood sweethearts, just classmates—spending most of our days in the same room. From his seat, Harold would often find himself staring at a man who just wanted to live quietly. One day, as he watched, Harold slowly walked over to that man.

He made the guy open his payment app and transfer a million to him, even marking it as a "voluntary donation."

I know this because that man is my father’s illegitimate son. After my father died, his mistress and their child lost their support. If it weren’t for Harold stepping in that day, both mother and son might’ve ended up in even worse shape.

At the time, I thought, What a coincidence.

But when I brought it up later, Harold said, “Coincidence? I knew exactly who he was.

“That kid’s mother donated her heart to your mom, and your dad slept with her as a way to say ‘thank you.’ Your mother died without ever knowing the truth, still thinking that woman saved her life.”

He looked at me, serious, and added, “You don’t have to keep treating that illegitimate brother and your stepmother with so much twisted resentment every day. Just handle things the way you should.”

Harold was only eighteen at the time. I forced a smile, trying to brush off his bluntness.

"Your stepmother, your stepmother," he’d say.

For a while, our relationship eased up because of that incident, but it didn’t last long. It was just a brief reprieve.

When we went off to college, Harold fell in love with a girl. But when the eldest brother of the Gray family found out, he nearly broke Harold's legs and made him kneel in the study for an entire day and night. That’s when he told Harold about our arranged marriage.

Anton, Harold’s eldest brother, was fifteen years older and had taken over the entire Gray family business after their parents died. His word was final.

Anton demanded that Harold marry me, and Harold didn’t dare disobey.

At first, Harold was indifferent toward me. Then, there was a brief period when things softened between us. But after that, he completely shut me out. It all happened so quickly, like the calm before a storm, only lasting a short while over a summer break.

To move on from the past, Harold and I had to follow the family tradition and go to the Gray family’s old house for dinner the next day.

I arrived early.

I told the eldest brother of the Gray family that due to my injury, I could no longer get pregnant. His gaze was piercing, though he tried to mask its intensity. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, "Why didn’t you mention this earlier?"

"I thought I still had a chance to recover back then," I replied.

The tension in the air gradually dissipated, and eventually, he let out a soft sigh. "My younger brother is still so immature. He’s been acting out a lot lately. Just bear with him for now."

I looked up suddenly, but only smiled bitterly inside. So, Harold hadn’t bothered to hide his behavior from anyone.

It felt like holding onto a wound that only stayed alive temporarily. Just when I was ready to fully detach myself from Harold, I realized I wouldn’t be disappointed for long.

I didn’t stay to eat with the Gray brothers. Instead, I left early and wandered by the river for a while. As the night deepened, I went straight to a hotel and booked a presidential suite.

On my way, I ran into Harold’s brother, who called out from a distance, "Sister-in-law, why are you alone? Gray is with my other sister-in-law, isn’t he?"

My mind went blank.

The delayed humiliation hit me all at once.

"I met the new sister-in-law. She's lively and knows how to keep things light. Gray’s always smiling around her. Oh, and by the way, do you remember who Li’s first love was? Turns out the new sister-in-law is her sister—her real sister. What a coincidence," Harold's brother said with a smirk. The young woman beside him chimed in, "Men always fall for the same type, don’t they? So romantic."

"I heard Li’s first love died in a car accident. Quite the tragedy, really—something straight out of a sad movie. Makes people miss her," she continued. Then, turning to me, she added, "Sister-in-law, you really seem like the classic villain in those stories, the kind that doesn’t last more than a few episodes before they’re written off.”

I forced a chuckle, though the sting of her words lingered. Just then, I met Harold’s eyes—cold, distant, and unyielding.

"You seem to be in a good mood," he said, his voice low. "You don’t go home, but let yourself be ridiculed here? I’ve brought Ashley to the hotel; you can leave now."

Ashley, who had come with us, waved sweetly at me, her eyes narrowing in a fake smile. "Now that we’re here, why don’t you apologize to me? After all, my sister had her accident because she was devastated to hear about your engagement to Mr. Gray."

How absurd. No one with any sense would believe Ashley's words, but before I could respond, Harold frowned and snapped, "Sara, apologize."

The air felt thick with tension. I stood there, weighing my options. If I truly loathed myself, staying would only invite more abuse. I knew the right move was to turn around and leave, without hesitation.

But before I could act, Ashley slapped me, hard. "Since you won’t speak up, I’ll silence you myself," she spat. "Remember, you’ll always carry a life on your conscience, and I have every right to make you pay for it whenever I want. Every time I see you, I'll make you suffer."

Her boldness came from Harold’s backing, and she knew it.

I was about to strike back when Harold grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. "Harold, what gives you the right to treat me like this? You resent marrying me, but instead of facing Anton, you take it out on me, again and again."

Harold's face twisted with anger. "Walter, I’ve had enough of your act! Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on between you and my eldest brother!" he shouted, voice shaking with rage.

I froze, completely caught off guard. What could he possibly mean? There was nothing between Anton and me. The fifteen-year age gap meant we barely even crossed paths in daily life. Anton had always been more like a distant elder, someone I was expected to respect, nothing more.

Harold’s fury only deepened. "Don’t pretend," he hissed, losing all control in front of everyone.

Harold's brother gently tried to calm him down, urging caution, but Harold shoved him away angrily.

"Didn’t you know it was my eldest brother’s idea to handle that situation with the illegitimate child? And now, he’s still not married, constantly distracted when you’re around. And you’re telling me there’s nothing between the two of you?"

I took a deep breath, feeling the absurdity of his accusation. His logic was completely deranged.

I raised my free hand and slapped him hard. "I have no idea what you're talking about, and even if any of it were true, that’s your brother’s problem, not mine."

Without another glance at Harold, I turned on my heel and left, heading back to my place, just as he wanted. But to my surprise, Anton was already there, waiting for me.

He stood tall and imposing, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. His presence felt as unmovable as a mountain.

I walked up to him. "Brother," I greeted him quietly.

His gaze swept over me, not in any intentional way, but it made me feel as if he could see right through me.

"I found your hotel check-in record and asked Harold to bring you back. Did he act foolishly again?"

"I thought, now that he’s 30, he might have grown better than before. Clearly, I was wrong. I'll handle it. Ashley won’t be a problem anymore."

I didn’t thank him, my discomfort only deepening. I wrapped my arms around myself, said nothing more, and nodded, brushing past him as I walked inside.

The Gray family was full of men who made promises they never kept. And Harold—he refused to let go of Ashley, even if it meant losing everything.

The next day, Anton summoned us all to the Gray family’s Buddhist temple. He sat quietly, fingering the Buddhist beads in his hand, his eyes steady as he opened them.

"Kneel," he commanded Harold.

Anton was more than just a brother to Harold; he’d been both brother and father. Harold had never resisted him—until now.

"I won’t!" Harold shouted, his voice trembling with defiance. "Brother, I’m 30 years old, not a child. You can't trample on my dignity and control my life!"

Anton’s response was calm, cutting through the air like a blade. "Everything you have, I gave you."

Their parents had died when Anton was only eighteen, leaving him to raise Harold, who had been just three at the time. Anton carried the weight of their family for years, a burden Harold could never fully repay.

But this time, Harold stood firm. "Then take it all back, if you must."

Anton paused, the Buddhist beads stilling in his hand as he lifted his gaze slightly. "Are you certain?"

"Mr. Gray, please don’t do this. It’s not worth it for me," Ashley interrupted hastily, tugging at Harold's sleeve. "You’ve been looking out for me ever since my sister passed away. She’d be at peace knowing that. You don’t owe either of us anything. President Gray gave you so much. Sure, they were your parents' legacy, but without President Gray, the Gray family wouldn’t be where it is now. Don’t throw it all away so easily, or I’ll feel guilty."

Harold let out a sharp, cold snort. "I’m sure," he replied.

He knelt, bowing his head in a brief, forceful kowtow, then stood up. "From this moment on, I, Harold, have nothing to do with you, Anton!"

With that, he grabbed Ashley’s hand and stormed out without so much as a glance in my direction. Anton groaned behind him, the sound heavy, as if he had just swallowed back blood.

I stared at him coolly. "If that's how it’s going to be, when you take back everything, make sure you take back my marriage as well. I want nothing more to do with the entire Gray family."