The Secret Hidden Inside That Single Photograph

1 My husband had a face carved by angels, drawing eyes everywhere he went. The first time it happened was on the subway. A cute girl with big, dewy eyes asked for his number. He didn't even look up. The second time was at the beach. A stunning woman in a bikini approached him. He turned on his heel and walked away. The third time, the fourth time... every attempt was met with cold, unyielding rejection. I couldn't help complaining to my best friend that he was a total stiff, though deep down, my heart was practically singing. Hazel just snorted. "He's acting. No man turns down free food. Don't believe me? Try texting him from an alt account." For three whole days, my friend request sat there unanswered. Just as I was secretly gloating, the request was accepted. I typed out a message: "Hey handsome, I really like you." He replied with a single sentence: "Stay away. I'm married." I burst out laughing, screenshotted the reply, and sent it to Hazel, telling her she owed me my autumn iced boba tea. The very next second, he sent a photo. Along with a caption: "See this? This is my wife. Beautiful, right? Stop harassing me, she'll get upset if she sees this." The smile froze on my lips. In the photo, the woman snuggled intimately against his shoulder was painfully familiar. It was my best friend, Hazel. A wave of nausea hit me as I realized I had spent the last eight years living as an absolute fool. The dream was over. It was time to wake up. … Ralph finished ordering food. Seeing me staring blankly at my phone, he reached out with a warm smile to pat my head. "What's wrong, babe? Starving to death?" I subtly leaned back, dodging his hand. My chest felt hollow and heavy. His hand froze in mid-air, a frown tugging at his brows as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong. Right on cue, Hazel burst through the restaurant doors. She dropped into the seat beside me, holding two iced boba drinks, and pushed one toward me. It was my favorite Mango Sago. "Here, your autumn boba tea. A bet's a bet." Ralph shot her a contemptuous look. "Just one drink? How cheap can you get? What did you even bet my girl?" Hazel rolled her eyes. "Mind your own business! If you're so generous, why don't you pay for this hot pot?" Usually, whenever they started bickering like this, I would laugh and play mediator. This time, I stayed dead silent. I poked the straw through the seal and took a deep gulp. It tasted bitter, without a single trace of sweetness. The two of them exchanged a strange look, sensing something off, though neither could put a finger on it. Hazel took a sip of her Peach Oolong tea, wrinkled her nose, and pushed it aside in disgust. "Gross. Tastes terrible." Ralph gave her a look of utter disdain. "If it's terrible, why push it over here? Who wants your spit?" Hazel nearly rolled her eyes to the back of her head. "I was asking you to throw it in the trash, your majesty!" Ralph grumbled under his breath about her bossing him around, but his hand reached out anyway. He grabbed the cup, put his lips directly over the straw she had just used, and took a long sip. Then, he frowned. "Yeah, it really is gross." My eyes locked onto that straw. The red lipstick smudge was wet with saliva, smeared heavily around the tip. A sharp, stinging pain throbbed in my chest. When we first started dating, Ralph told me he was a severe germaphobe. Even during the peak of our honeymoon phase, he never ate off my plate or drank from my glass. When we kissed, he would carefully wipe the lipstick off my lips with a wet tissue first, keeping the touch brief and gentle. Yet just now, he didn't mind Hazel's saliva at all. The server brought out the dishes. Ralph kept scooping cooked meat into my bowl until it piled up like a small mountain. Hazel moved fast, reaching her chopsticks across the table to grab the last piece of shrimp paste. Her grip slipped. The shrimp paste plummeted back into the pot, sending a wave of scalding hot broth splashing across the table. I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut as intense burning heat seared the skin of my forearm. When I opened my eyes, Ralph was half-standing. He had grabbed Hazel's wrist, pulling her firmly behind his body to shield her. "Do you have a brain?" he roared at her, his voice laced with explosive anger and raw, unfiltered worry. "How many times have I told you to use the slotted spoon?" Hazel felt guilty, but her pride kept her from backing down. She shoved his hand away. "Why are you screaming at me? It didn't even splash on you! Stop acting so delicate!" "I was afraid it would splash on my girl!" Hearing those words, I pulled a napkin from the dispenser and quietly wiped the spicy oil off my skin. My hand trembled slightly, knocking my chopsticks off the table. I bent down to pick them up. Underneath the tablecloth, I saw Ralph's leg pressed tightly against Hazel's calf. Hazel had slipped off her high heels. Her bare ankle was wrapped around his leg like a creeping vine. Above the table, they were still arguing, neither willing to yield an inch. "Can you stop kicking the table? You knocked my girl's chopsticks onto the floor!" "Which eye saw me kick it? Your hands were shaking, stop blaming me for everything!" I straightened my back and slammed the dirty chopsticks onto the wooden table with a heavy thud. "I'll get a fresh pair." Turning on my heel, I walked toward the service counter. The moment I turned the corner into the hallway, my knees buckled, and I slumped heavily against the wall. Memories from the past eight years flashed through my mind like a horror movie. All those fierce, constant arguments between them. All the hidden glances and secret touches buried in the dark. I finally understood it all. I just didn't know how far they had actually gone. Pulling myself together, I walked back to the table, pretending nothing had happened. After paying the bill, Ralph stepped outside to answer a phone call. When he returned, he told me he had to go back to the office for urgent overtime. "Babe, I called a cab for you. Text me the moment you get home, okay?" He pressed a gentle kiss onto my forehead. Hazel waved her hand dramatically. "Alright, alright, spare me the public display of affection." She shot Ralph a quick look. "Actually, drop me off at the shopping mall on your way." Ralph acted annoyed, but he still opened the passenger door for her. The two cars pulled out one after the other. As my cab approached the main intersection, I spoke up quietly to the driver. "Follow that Mercedes." The driver's eyes lit up with instant curiosity. Sure enough, the Mercedes didn't head toward the mall, nor did it head toward his office building. Instead, it drove straight into a residential neighborhood I knew all too well. It pulled into the parking lot right beneath Hazel's building. I sat in the back of the cab, rolling down the window. A few minutes later, the lights on the eighth floor flickered on. The living room curtains weren't drawn. Two silhouettes were wrapped around each other, tangled in a passionate, desperate embrace. I pushed the car door open and walked upstairs. Standing outside Hazel's apartment, I pushed lightly against the door. It wasn't even locked. The air inside was thick with heavy, suffocating intimacy. I reached out and flipped the main light switch in the living room. A sharp scream cut through the apartment. Ralph bolted off the sofa, his eyes wildly searching the entryway. The moment his eyes met mine, his flushed face turned deadly pale. "Babe... what are you doing here?" Hazel frantically pushed Ralph away, scrambling to straighten her clothes. I walked over to a dining chair opposite the couch and sat down calmly. My gaze drifted between the two of them, finally settling on Hazel. "When did it start?" Hazel raised her hands, stammering frantically. "Sierra, it's not what you think. We were just..." "When did it start!" I cut her off, my voice sharp as a blade. Ralph took a step toward me. "Babe, let me explain." "I am asking her!" My eyes locked onto Hazel with cold fury. Hazel's eyes welled with tears. After a agonizing pause, she whispered, "Three... three years ago." Three years ago? That was right after Ralph and I got married. Hazel had gone through a horrific breakup back then, crying herself to sleep every single night. I took her out for fresh air, took her shopping, took her on vacations. I bought her designer clothes, bags, and makeup. Ralph had even pretended to be jealous back then, complaining that I spent more time comforting my best friend than being with my new husband. It turned out they were already sleeping together back then. "Hazel, how could you do this to me?" I asked quietly. She slid off the couch, crawling toward me on her knees to grab my hand. I pulled away instantly. "Sierra, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't want to ruin your marriage. I was just... I was in so much pain." I looked at her with pure ice in my eyes. "You were in pain, so you decided to destroy my life?" Hazel knelt on the floor, weeping hysterically. Ralph couldn't watch it anymore. "Enough, Sierra! Stop it! Hazel has severe clinical depression! She tried to kill herself multiple times! Stop backing her into a corner!" I shifted my eyes to him. "I'm backing her into a corner? You two are pushing me into an abyss!" I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and pulled up the chat screen. "Ralph, she has depression. What's your excuse? Why did you send this photo from your alt account calling her your wife? What did you mean by that?" His pupils dilated instantly. He snatched the phone from my hand, scanning the screen over and over. "This... this account was you?! You used a fake account to test me?! You don't trust me at all?" "Trust?" I let out a bitter laugh, pointing at his disheveled shirt and messy hair. "This is what my trust got me." Choking on his words, he stood there speechless for a long moment before raspy words escaped his throat. "Babe, what's between Hazel and me isn't what you think. Give me some time. Once her mental health improves, I'll cut all ties with her. I swear!" He raised his right hand. "The only person I have ever loved is you." I never knew vows could sound so utterly revolting. "Ralph, let's get a divorce." Saying those words out loud still made my heart ache with a fierce, tearing pain. Ralph lunged forward, wrapping his arms around me with crushing force. "No! I don't agree! You're angry right now, you're not thinking clearly. Let's sit down and talk this through, please!" I shook my head, using every ounce of strength left in my body to push him away. "I have never been clearer in my entire life. Think it over. Don't make me wait too long." Without giving Hazel a single glance, I walked out the door. I walked endlessly down the street until the streetlights grew sparse and the night grew pitch black. Only then did I allow my tears to fall. Ripping out eight years of deep love from your heart was never going to be easy. Suddenly, crude voices echoed from behind me. "Hey sweetheart, why is a pretty girl walking alone crying in the middle of the night?" I turned around. Three men stepped out from the shadows of an alleyway. Cigarettes dangled from their lips, smelling of cheap liquor and stale smoke. I looked around. There wasn't a street sign or a soul in sight. Panic surged in my chest. One of the men stepped close, his greasy eyes scanning my body greedily. "Got dumped? Why don't you let us take real good care of you?" A rough, calloused hand reached out to grab my shoulder. I lifted my leg with all my strength, kicking hard into his groin. He let out a muffled curse and swung his palm flat against the side of my face. A loud crack echoed, and my ears began ringing violently. Everything went white. In the middle of the chaos, a familiar figure charged out of the dark. Ralph ripped the man off me, throwing a heavy fist straight into his face. He knocked the other two to the ground in a frantic brawl. Realizing they were outmatched, the three men cursed loudly and scrambled away into the night. "You're safe now, babe! I'm here, don't be scared!" He wrapped his heavy jacket tightly around my trembling shoulders. I lifted my head, looking at the familiar face in front of me. The heart that had just died felt a tiny spark of life trying to ignite again. "Take me home," I whispered. "Okay!" He held me tight, resting his chin on top of my head. Suddenly, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. The name "Hazel" flashed across the screen. He hesitated for a brief second before hitting answer. "Ralph... where are you? It hurts so much... I can't remember how many pills I took..." When he hung up, a deeply conflicted expression covered his face. I pulled myself out of his arms, feeling the last ember in my heart freeze into solid ice. "Babe, I called emergency services, the police will be here soon. Hazel's having a crisis, I need to..." "Just go," I interrupted him, handing his jacket back. A few minutes later, his rushed footsteps faded into the distance. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to my senior manager, Gwen. "I accept the overseas transfer to the London office. As soon as possible." Gwen called me back instantly. "Sierra, didn't you tell me last week that you and Ralph were trying for a baby? Why the sudden transfer?" My heart was filled with bitter sorrow, unable to explain the mess. "Not anymore. We're getting a divorce. I only have one condition, I'm bringing my mother with me." Silence blanketed the line for a moment before Gwen spoke again. "If you've made up your mind, the company fully supports you. You can fly out tomorrow!" After hanging up, the police arrived. After taking my statement, they safely escorted me back home. The moment the front door locked behind me, I collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was cold and quiet. My chest felt utterly hollow. I picked up my phone to check the time, but my fingers compulsively opened my alt account to check Ralph's social media feed. The moment I opened it, my throat felt constricted, making it hard to breathe. The feed I usually saw on my main account was boring and work-focused. Aside from a few company updates, there was never a single trace of me. Whenever I playfully asked him to post photos of us, he always said he disliked exposing his private life to the public. He said he didn't want other men lusting over his beautiful wife. Back then, I thought it was sweet. Now, looking through the alt account, I saw a completely different reality. Every single post was filled with photo grids, packed with intimate photos of him and Hazel. One post stood out sharply. It was dated May 20th of this year, our third wedding anniversary. I had booked a high-end restaurant a week in advance. That morning, I texted him: "Leave work early tonight, I'll be waiting for you at the restaurant." He replied: "Sure thing, babe." Followed by a string of kissing emojis. I sat at the restaurant table as the server poured cup after cup of water, but he never showed up. At ten that night, he sent a text: "The new product launch is hitting a glitch, everyone has to stay late at the office. Don't wait up for me, babe!" I ordered a single dinner set, brought home his favorite spicy poached fish, and waited. When he arrived home past midnight, his exhausted eyes lit up seeing the fish on the dining table. "Thank you, babe!" Yet on that exact same night, his alt feed showed two movie tickets. It was for a romantic film I had been dying to see for months. And the tickets were for love seats. My fingers trembled as I scrolled down. Valentine's Day, my birthday, his birthday... Every single milestone was spent with Hazel. I closed the app and closed my eyes. The apartment was silent, save for the ticking of the clock. I didn't want to know how many more lies were buried beneath the surface. This marriage was beyond saving. I picked up my phone again and sent a text to Attorney Ross. "Please draft a divorce agreement for me." Sent. I began packing my things. Three years of marriage, eight years of love, couldn't even fill a single twenty-eight-inch suitcase. When I woke up the next morning, I reached out out of habit to touch the other side of the bed. It was cold and empty. Ralph hadn't come home all night. I wheeled my suitcase to the entryway to change my shoes. The front door swung open. Ralph stepped inside, holding a paper bag containing fresh soy milk and pan-fried beef buns. They were from my favorite breakfast spot, the one that always had a line wrapped around the block. He froze seeing my suitcase. "You're leaving for a business trip this early? Why didn't you tell me? I could have driven you." I ignored him, pulling my sneakers on. He rushed forward, pulling me into a tight, apologetic hug. "Babe, don't be mad anymore. Eat breakfast first, or your stomach is going to hurt again." He held out the bag. I didn't reach for it. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air as he explained helplessly, "Hazel took too many pills last night. I had to rush her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped. Once she gets better, I promise..." "I'm leaving," I cut him off, unwilling to hear another word. I stepped out the door and pressed the elevator call button. He chased after me. "Babe, don't make an impulsive decision! I'll wait for you to come back!" The elevator doors slid shut. I let out a cold laugh in the privacy of the metal box. No. I was never coming back. The transfer paperwork went smoothly. After saying goodbye to my colleagues, I walked out of the office building and headed straight to my mother's apartment complex. Just as my mother and I stepped out of her building, a crowd of angry people suddenly rushed out from the shadows, surrounding us tightly. My mother stumbled back in fear, nearly falling over. I quickly held her steady and shouted, "What are you doing? Move out of the way!" A girl wearing glasses shoved her phone right into my face, her voice dripping with righteous fury. "Everyone look! This is the disgusting mistress who stole her best friend's husband!" She grew more animated, pointing the camera straight at my mother's face. "And this is her mother! Anyone who raises such a shameless daughter must have been a homewrecker herself!" Fury exploded in my chest. I reached out and slapped the phone out of her hand, sending it crashing onto the pavement. She froze for a second before lunging forward, shoving me violently. "You dare lay a hand on me? You stole someone's husband and pushed the real wife into the ER, how do you even have the nerve to be alive?" I was completely bewildered. "I am not a mistress! You have the wrong person!" "Not a mistress?" Another woman shoved a phone screen against my eyes. "Open your eyes and look closely!" I caught a glimpse of a viral online post. The headline read: [VIRAL DRAMA! Taxi driver witnesses cheating confrontation! This mistress is out of her mind!] The post, written from the driver's perspective, detailed how he drove the "original wife" to catch the husband in the act. It claimed the mistress was so arrogant that she humiliated the wife, pushing her into severe shock and landing her in the ER. Attached were two photos. The first showed three people arguing heatedly. The second showed a woman being wheeled into the emergency room while a man hovered beside her anxiously. In the photos, Hazel's and Ralph's faces were heavily blurred. My face, however, was in crystal-clear focus. "You have the wrong person!" I yelled at the crowd, holding up my ID. "I am the wife in that post! I have a marriage certificate to prove it!" "Still lying?" A heavy-set woman barked. "Why would the mistress be blurred while the wife's face is shown? Who knows if your marriage certificate is fake?" I tried to explain, but my voice was completely drowned out by the roaring mob. Suddenly, a plastic water bottle flew through the air, striking me hard across the forehead. I touched my forehead. My hand came away covered in warm blood. My mother threw her body over mine, crying out desperately, "Stop hitting her! Please! My daughter is innocent! You have the wrong person!" The crowd ignored her cries, pushing closer and closer. Suddenly, my mother clutched her chest, gasping violently for air. "Mom! Mom, what's wrong?!" Finally, building security guards forced their way through the crowd. "Disperse! Clear out!" I grabbed a guard's arm like a lifeline, sobbing hysterically. "Call an ambulance! Quick! My mother has a heart condition!" By the time Ralph arrived outside the resuscitation room, I was still sitting on the cold floor in shock. "Babe! I thought you went on a business trip? How did this happen? Who hurt you?" I lifted my head, looking at him through a blur of tears. "It was that online post! A mob attacked us! My mother is inside being resuscitated right now! Hazel was the one who posted it!" Ralph frowned, his grip on my hand slowly loosening. "Hazel couldn't have posted it. She's been in the hospital since last night." "So what?" My eyes widened in disbelief. "You believe her over me? You think I made it up?" He didn't answer, but his silence said everything. I wiped my tears and turned my back on him. "Get out. I don't need you here." He stayed crouched beside me, his voice carrying a desperate plea. "Sierra, things have spiraled out of control. The priority right now is to calm the internet storm down!" "How?" I asked coldly. "Go apologize to Hazel." "What did you just say?!" I couldn't believe my ears. His face flushed with impatience. "Just apologize publicly and clarify that the post is fake! Once the netizens lose interest, they'll disperse. It's for your own good, and for your mother's good!" I let out a bitter laugh. "You're doing this for Hazel!" Exposed, Ralph snapped. "Sierra, I'm doing this for you! If this scandal keeps growing, do you think your mother can handle it? She's still in critical condition!" My head slowly dropped. He was right about one thing. My mother was hanging by a thread. She couldn't take any more shock. Like a hollow shell stripped of its soul, I let Ralph lead me to Hazel's hospital room. Ignoring the whispers from onlookers, I bowed my head toward the bed. "I am sorry. My handling of the situation caused you harm." Hazel's eyes turned red, and she reached out to grab my hand. I took a step back, looking at the man beside me. "Are you satisfied now?" He nodded. I turned and walked away. The moment I reached the emergency doors, a nurse ran out, her voice frantic. "Where were you? The patient went into sudden cardiac arrest! We spent forty minutes on CPR, but she just passed away." My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor, crawling desperately toward my mother's body. "Mom! Don't leave me alone! Please, I'm begging you!" I screamed until my voice blew out, but no response ever came. There was nothing left in this city for me. Two hours later, holding the urn containing my mother's ashes, I boarded a flight to London. Before boarding, my phone chimed with a notification. [Dear customer, your delivered package containing the divorce agreement has been signed.] I blocked both of their numbers and walked through the terminal gate without looking back once. When the plane touched down, my screen lit up with ninety-nine missed calls.