My Cheating Husband Begs on His Knees

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband Logan’s first love posted wedding photos on Instagram. Her caption read: *Day 9,999 since knowing Logan. Finally took our wedding photos! Tonight's candlelit dinner was so sweet!* Their mutual friends flooded the comments with congratulations. I stared at the screen, watching Logan’s devoted, loving expression in the photos. Without hesitation, I snapped a picture of our actual marriage license, posted it to my story, and tagged both Logan and his precious Chloe. Less than two minutes later, my phone blew up. The second I answered, Logan’s furious voice exploded through the speaker: "Claire! Chloe just finalized her divorce! We were only taking fake wedding photos to spite her toxic ex! Did you really have to post our marriage license just to rub salt in her wounds?" "Are you that desperate to let the whole world know what a petty, insecure bitch I married? Do you want all my friends laughing at me?!" A few moments later, Chloe posted another photo and deliberately tagged me: *Logan bought me a massive rock to cheer me up.* I rubbed the plain, tarnished band on my ring finger and let out a cold laugh. This marriage was over. …… Today was supposed to be our fifth wedding anniversary. Logan had told me he wanted a candlelit dinner, so I took the afternoon off work to cook everything from scratch. This morning, I had reminded him to come home early. Now, I watched the candle wax melt into cold puddles. The food on the table grew stone cold. Logan never showed up. Bored and waiting, I had opened Instagram, only to see him and Chloe posing as bride and groom. So that was why he hadn't answered my calls all day. He wasn’t busy working. He was playing house with another woman. And that candlelit dinner wasn't meant for me at all. Watching their friends shower them with blessings felt absurd. So I exposed him—only to get an earful of venom. At half past midnight, the front door finally clicked open. Logan walked in. He was carrying a cake box. Seeing the ruined candles and untouched food on the dining table, his forehead creased in irritation: "Claire, are you a child? Playing with fire at dinner? What if you burned the house down? And why cook so much food if you're eating alone? What a complete waste." He hit me with accusation after accusation. Exhausted, I stood up and started putting the cold dishes into the fridge. "Logan, do you even know what today is?" "What day? Don't tell me it's our anniversary or something." My hands paused over a ceramic plate. After a few seconds, I replied quietly, "No." He let out a relieved sigh. "I knew it. Isn't our anniversary next month? I really don't get why people obsess over these stupid dates." Logan had never gotten our anniversary right. In five years, he had never even remembered my actual birthday. People might say he was just an oblivious guy. Yet, he knew Chloe's birthday down to the minute. He knew the exact number of days they had been friends, and he never failed to bring her a heating pad and painkillers whenever she had cramps. Logan pulled out a chair, sat down, and slid the bakery box toward me. "Chloe bought this for you. She wanted to apologize. Look at you, throwing a tantrum online, and she's still the bigger person, buying you cake. She has way more class than you." He opened the lid. It was a mango shortcake. "Look at that. Fresh mangoes all over it. See how sincere she is?" I sneered and threw the entire cake straight into the trash can. Logan jumped to his feet, outraged. "What the hell is wrong with you?! You terrified Chloe today, and she still went out of her way to buy you an apology cake! Stop being so damn ungrateful!" I had a life-threatening mango allergy. Even a tiny trace caused severe hives, swelling, and anaphylactic shock. Chloe knew this. At our wedding five years ago, she had intentionally handed me a glass contaminated with mango juice, trying to humiliate me. And Logan knew it too. "I’m severely allergic to mangoes!" I trembled, staring at the crushed cake in the bin. Logan didn't care. He clamped his fingers around my wrist, pulling out his phone with his other hand. "You're the one who owes her an apology! I'm calling Chloe right now. You're going to apologize to her." "No! Let go of me!" I screamed, struggling against his grip. Logan was much stronger than me. In the scuffle, he swung his elbow back, hitting me squarely in the stomach. Pain exploded across my abdomen like thousands of needles tearing through my nerves. The agony doubled me over, knocking the air right out of my lungs. Seeing my face pale, Logan panicked. He shoved his phone into his pocket and hastily helped me onto a chair. Ever since my miscarriage, my abdomen had been fragile. It couldn't take that kind of blunt force. Just one month ago, I had lost our three-month-old baby.A month ago, I had excitedly gone to find Logan with my pregnancy test results in hand. I found him at IKEA with Chloe, leaning in entirely too close. Furious, I had rushed up to confront them, completely forgetting about being careful. Logan shoved my shoulder back, defensive and loud: "Chloe just got divorced! She doesn't have a man to help her move furniture! What's wrong with me giving her a hand? You're way too paranoid." If I hadn't shown up, they would have been kissing right in the showroom aisle. Chloe had hidden behind Logan with teary eyes. But as Logan and I argued, she suddenly grabbed my arm. "Claire, why can't you just understand Logan?" When I jerked my arm away, she shoved me hard. I fell backward, crashing onto the cold floor. The sonogram report in my hand was instantly soaked in crimson blood. Amid the screams of bystanders, Logan panicked and rushed me into his car. The pain made me drift in and out of consciousness. Instead of checking on me, Logan yelled at me the entire drive: "If you knew you were pregnant, why were you running around picking fights?! Claire, did you do this on purpose?!" The blood wouldn't stop pouring out. I already knew the baby was gone. Less than a mile from the hospital, Logan's phone rang. It was connected to the car's Bluetooth, broadcasting her voice loud and clear. Chloe was sobbing hysterically: "I didn't know she was pregnant... I didn't mean it! I don't want to live anymore! The wind by the river is so cold... Logan, if I jump, will you miss me?" *Screeech!* Tires shrieked against the asphalt. The violent inertia threw my body forward, sending a wave of ripping pain through my gut. I nearly blacked out. "Chloe, baby, don't do anything stupid! I saw the whole thing! Claire jerked away and tripped over her own feet! It had nothing to do with you! Stay right there, I'm coming to get you!" Logan hung up, kicked open the door, and dragged me out onto the sidewalk. "Claire, I called an Uber for you. It'll be here in two minutes. Wait here. As soon as I calm Chloe down, I'll meet you at the hospital." Gathering my last ounce of strength, I grabbed his sleeve. He yanked it out of my grip with disgust. "The baby is already dead, but Chloe is a living human being! Do you want to watch her die?! Isn't killing one life enough for you? Do you have to murder a second?!" Logan slammed the gas and tore down the road. I had zero strength left. I curled up on the cold concrete. Two minutes later, thunder cracked, and freezing rain poured down, soaking me to the bone. A kind stranger eventually found me and drove me to the emergency room. When I woke up, it was the dead of night. I was completely alone. During my two days in the hospital, Logan only sent a couple of texts saying Chloe's mental health was unstable and he couldn't leave her, telling me to wait for him before discharging myself. I chuckled bitterly, packed my own bag, and went home. When Logan finally walked through our front door, he was furious, demanding to know why I hadn't told him I had checked out, complaining that he'd wasted a trip to the hospital. I said nothing. I reached out, grabbed his phone, unlocked it, and pulled up his blocked contact list. My name was right there at the top. I shoved the screen in his face. Logan froze, coughing awkwardly. "Chloe probably tapped it by accident when she was playing games on my phone. I never meant to block you." By accident? Any sane person knew it was deliberate. I couldn't tell if Logan was truly stupid or just playing dumb. Softening his tone, he tried to pull me into his arms. "We can always have another baby. We're still young." He hugged me, but my eyes were terrifyingly hollow. The doctor had already told me the truth: the damage was too severe. I would never be able to conceive again. I had always been someone who liked proper endings. I had planned to quietly file for divorce after our anniversary. But it seemed this miserable chapter was ending in chaos anyway. "Your miscarriage was a whole month ago. I barely touched you just now. Are you faking it?" After helping me into the chair, Logan's expression turned suspicious. I clenched my fists with everything I had left. "Get out!" Logan let go of me, crossing his arms with a mocking smirk. "Ha. Voice sounds pretty strong to me, Claire. Keep acting. You want my pity? Not a chance in hell." Cold sweat dripped down my forehead, but he looked right through me, convinced it was a performance. He grabbed his jacket and slammed the front door shut behind him. Trembling, I pulled out my phone and called a friend. I was genuinely terrified that if I died alone in this apartment, my body would rot before anyone found me. Whenever Logan fought with me, he always ran straight to Chloe. He wouldn't be back for at least three or four days.The next day, feeling slightly better, I immediately called a divorce lawyer and started the asset division process. With Logan gone, a strange lightness settled over me. Looking back at the last five years, I realized I must have been blind to ever think he was a prize. My phone chimed with a text. It was a photo from Chloe. It showed the silhouette of Logan and Chloe kissing against a deep blue ocean at sunset. I scoffed. If she wanted this piece of trash, she was welcome to keep him. I blocked her number, saved the photo, and forwarded it to my lawyer, asking if it counted as proof of infidelity. Unfortunately, my lawyer said the silhouette was too dark to legally prove identity. Shortly after Chloe sent the picture, Logan called me. "Claire, didn't you always want to visit the beach? Come over. We're down at Holiday Beach." As soon as he finished speaking, I heard muffled snickers in the background. My grip tightened around the phone. "Fine," I gritted out. I assumed I'd catch them in the act and finally get concrete evidence for the court. To my surprise, when I arrived, Chloe was nowhere to be seen. Logan saw me walking toward him and puffed out his chest to his buddies. "Told you guys. One word from me, and Claire comes running." I looked at him blankly. He didn't even have the power to make me angry anymore. His frat-boy circle of friends exchanged awkward glances. "Hey, Claire. Long time no see," Logan's childhood friend, Tyler, greeted me, raising his cup. I gave a curt nod. Disappointed that Chloe wasn't around, I turned to leave, but Tyler spoke up again: "Claire, our companies are about to sign a big partnership. Hope you can put in a good word for us!" I replied flatly, "I requested a transfer to our Chicago branch. I won't be managing local accounts anymore, so I can't help you." Two days ago, I had formally submitted my transfer request, and the approval had come through that morning. Tyler looked awkwardly at Logan. Logan's face darkened instantly as he stepped up to me. "You're moving to Chicago? Why didn't you tell me?!" I glanced at him, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "Do I need your permission to go anywhere?" "Of course you do! I'm your husband! Where you go is my decision!" Logan raised his voice, startling everyone around us. Tyler quickly jumped in to play peacemaker. "Logan~" A sweet, coquettish voice drifted over. Chloe appeared, wearing a tiny, revealing bikini. It was completely different from the outfit in the photo she had sent me. She knew I was coming, so she had vanished just to change into this. At dinner, the group gathered around the beach grill. Chloe sat pressed tightly against Logan. Her chest rested brazenly against his arm as she pouted, begging him to feed her skewers. The others kept sneaking glances at me, but my face remained an unreadable mask. I refused to sit next to him. He was filthy. After dinner, someone pulled out a deck of cards for King's Cup. The guy who drew the King declared: "Whoever has the 2 and the 6 has to make out." Logan flipped his card over. It was a 6. "Woah! Logan's a 6! Who has the 2? Rules are rules, even if it's two dudes!" Amid the rowdy cheers, Chloe blushed prettily and flipped her card. A 2.Someone in the back yelled, "Kiss! Kiss!" The moment the words left his mouth, the entire table fell dead silent. Every single eye darted toward me. The corners of my lips curved up. I clapped my hands loudly. "Go on! Kiss!" Logan stared at me in shock. Chloe didn't hesitate—she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a deep kiss on his lips, shooting me a triumphant glare when they parted. Next round. "Number 4 gives an order to Number 3." Chloe was 4. Unluckily, I drew 3. The second I showed my card, Chloe's eyes gleamed with malice. She poured a full cup of thick mango juice, pushed it in front of me, and put on a saintly act: "I don't want to make things hard for you, Claire. Just drink this juice, and consider it my apology for earlier." I stared at the cup with a frown, refusing to touch it. Chloe's hand hovered awkwardly in the air. Beside her, Logan snapped impatiently: "Claire, don't be so dramatic! Chloe is publicly apologizing to you! What are you acting so high and mighty for? Drink it!" A few of the guys chimed in, praising Chloe for giving me such an easy task. To me, mango juice was poison. The others didn't know, but Logan and Chloe knew damn well. "I am deathly allergic to mangoes. A sip could kill me. Chloe, are you trying to murder me?" My voice was ice-cold. The table gasped. Chloe immediately shrank behind Logan, putting on her trademark damsel-in-distress routine. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. "How could you say that about me, Claire? I just forgot you were allergic! I had good intentions, I didn't want to give you a harsh dare..." Logan's heart practically bled for her. He glared at me furiously: "Claire, would taking one sip kill you?! I've never seen anyone actually die from an allergy! Drink it right now to apologize to Chloe!" "She knows I'm allergic, yet she hands me mango juice. If that's not malicious, what is?" I pointed my finger directly at Chloe, inches from her face, making her flinch. "Aren't you two just wishing I'd drop dead so you can be together without feeling guilty? Let me tell you something: even if you two strip naked in front of me right now, I wouldn't care. I'd probably just clap and laugh at that tiny pickle on your giant tree, Logan." Logan's face turned purple with rage, his hands trembling. The tension spiked instantly. Tyler tried to intervene again, but Logan lost his mind. Before anyone could react, Logan grabbed the cup of mango juice, lunged forward, and forcefully jammed the rim against my lips, pouring the liquid down my throat. "Making a scene over a glass of juice! Who do you think you are, a damn princess?! Let's see if you actually die!" The thick juice choked me. Tears sprang to my eyes as I fought him off, coughing violently and clutching my burning throat. Logan threw the plastic cup to the ground, pulling the sobbing Chloe into his arms, cooing softly: "It's okay, Chloe. Claire's crazy. I punished her for you. Don't cry." Having comforted his mistress, he turned a venomous gaze back on me: "Learned your lesson? Now apologize to Chloe, or I'll force another—" Coughing violently, I cut him off, my eyes bloodshot: "Logan. We're getting a divorce." Logan froze, staring at me in disbelief. My skin began burning with intense hives. My throat felt like it was closing shut, swollen and dry. My chest tightened, oxygen cut off, and I collapsed heavily onto the sand. As my vision went black, chaos erupted around me: "Call 911! Fast! Claire isn't breathing!"