My Perfect Husband Lies a Secret

In four years of marriage, my husband transferred a set amount from my account every month like clockwork. The memo always read: car maintenance. I never thought twice about it. I assumed it was just a normal household expense. Until I worked seven straight days and nights at the office and finally came home. On our wedding anniversary, I found that he'd prepared not only a table full of food, but also a box of condoms. To support my career, Ethan Calloway had voluntarily gotten a vasectomy the year we got married. The odds of a condom appearing during s*x had always been zero. He came up behind me, wrapped his arms around me gently, and rested his chin on my shoulder. "I read online that even after a vasectomy, there's a tiny chance of pregnancy. You just secured your second round of funding. We can't afford any surprises." I nodded without letting anything show on my face. Late that night, after he fell asleep, I picked up his phone. A contact saved as "auto mechanic." The transaction history went on and on. I scrolled until my thumb ached. Then I stopped on a transfer from a year ago. The memo read: first birthday gift. He'd already had the vasectomy reversed. He'd even had a child with someone else. The earliest suspicious transfer dated back two years. That was the year I'd gone overseas for work. Chasing a project deadline, I didn't come home for eight straight months. Ethan and I had been newlyweds, separated by an ocean. He video-called every night without fail, never complained, just reminded me over and over to eat on time and not push myself too hard. I'd look at the empty living room behind him on the screen and feel nothing but guilt. His birthday, our anniversary, work had swallowed them all. It never occurred to me that he'd had a child with another woman. The cold glow of the phone screen lit up my face, catching my frozen expression. Ethan shifted in his sleep and cracked his eyes open. He saw the phone in my hand. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. Then he pulled the blanket up over my cold shoulders, his voice drowsy and warm as ever. "Honey, come to bed. It's almost dawn." Watching him close his eyes again, his breathing settling into a steady rhythm, I almost convinced myself that the transaction records had just been a trick of my tired eyes. Ethan was everyone's idea of the perfect husband. After we got married, the thing I heard most often was, "With your workaholic personality, who else but Ethan could put up with you?" Six years ago, he gave up a fully funded fellowship abroad to stay and help me survive the hardest stretch of building my company. "Harper, go chase your dream. I'll hold down the fort." Four years ago, when the company's cash flow nearly collapsed, he handed over every dollar of our savings. "I can always make more money. Use it." That same year, we got our marriage license. Both of Ethan's parents didn't have any sisters or brothers. The pressure for an heir fell squarely on him. He bore it alone and went in for the vasectomy. When his mother found out, she slapped him across the face on the spot. He got down on his knees in front of her, his kneecaps hitting the floor with a dull thud. "Mom, Harper's company is fighting for its life. I can't let anything hold her back. This was my decision." I stood outside the door, fingernails digging into my palms, and didn't go in. I swore I would never let him down. Now, at four in the morning, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at that memo: first birthday gift. He had a child with another woman. The child would be a little over three by now. I walked barefoot to the study and opened my laptop. My assistant's findings were limited. The woman's name was Lily Trent. She ran a flower shop. Information about the child, the exact address, Ethan had buried it all deep. There wasn't much more to find yet.