Betrayed by Love:  To Stay or To Leave?

I am a neurosurgeon. The first time I discovered my husband was cheating was when I found a slightly curly, yellow hair on his clothes that didn't belong to me. I'm a very professional person with short, black, ear-length hair, so it was obvious that this hair on him wasn't mine. Dimitrie and I hadn't seen each other for a few days because we were both busy with work. Tonight, as soon as I got home, he reached out to hug me. I buried my head in his chest, and what was supposed to be a tender and sweet moment changed because I found a hair on his chest. I looked at that hair, slightly yellow, long, and curly. Just from the hair, I could tell its owner must be someone quite attractive. Alarm bells went off in my mind. But I didn't immediately confront him and demand loudly whose hair it was. Instead, I got up from his embrace, looked at him with a smile, and said, "The girls in your office must be very pretty, right?" He looked down at me and replied softly, "Not as pretty as you." I smiled, "Really? I've been thinking about dyeing my hair yellow lately, and I feel my hair is too short now. I want to grow it out a bit. What do you think?" I looked into his eyes, trying to catch any flaw in his expression. But he was too calm. "Are doctors allowed to dye their hair? You can if you quit your job and become my full-time wife." So I joked, "Haha, I'm not going to dye it. I think I'm the most beautiful as I am now." I struck a pose I thought was beautiful. He gently tapped my forehead, a gesture that should have been endearing, but now it made me feel sick. At night, after he fell asleep, I got up quietly and went to the washing machine, intending to do his laundry. But then, I noticed something very wrong with his clothes. Usually, his clothes would have some kind of smell, like sweat, smoke, or food, but today, there was no smell at all, as if the clothes hadn't been worn at all. This made me even more certain of my suspicions. The next day, I asked Dimitrie to drive me to the hospital. "Dim, I was so tired last night. I don't want to drive myself. Can you take me to work?" He agreed without much thought. I sat in the passenger seat, trying to find any trace of evidence, but unfortunately, there was none. The car was spotless, like it had just been detailed. Suddenly, I thought of something and said to him, "Dim, Xylo's grades have been slipping lately. I want to enroll him in a tutoring class. Also, Xylo told me his classmates have signed up for piano lessons. I want Xylo to go too." Dimitrie thought for two seconds and then said to me, "It's up to you. Isn't all the money with you? You can do whatever you want, my lovely wife." I looked at Dimitrie and casually said, "You know, a few days ago, I met a patient who had a sudden stroke, but his wife was reluctant to sign the surgery consent form." He asked me, "Why?" I looked at him and said, "Because he used to cheat a lot, neglecting his wife and kids, and his wife didn't want to care for him anymore." "Why do you men love to cheat so much? Would it kill you to love just one person for a lifetime?" Dimitrie immediately stated his position, "Don't say that, honey. Not all men are like that. I'm not. I will love only you for my entire life." I couldn't detect any problem from his subtle expressions. Not detecting a problem was normal. The youngest professor at Stanford University, and in psychology no less, he outshines me in both intelligence and emotional intelligence. Dimitrie and I have known each other since we were very young, the so-called childhood sweethearts. Our families lived close to each other, and both sets of parents knew each other. Dimitrie was smart from a young age, and people always compared me to him. I lived in his shadow for a long time. I still remember the day Dimitrie confessed to me. He stood in front of my desk. It was a physical education class, so no one was in the classroom. The sunlight fell on him, casting a gentle glow. He said to me, "Chloie, be with me, and I'll help you get into a prestigious university." I have to admit, at that time, this was incredibly appealing to someone like me, who was solely focused on studying. I nodded almost without hesitation. Later, he kept his promise and helped me get into the most famous local prestigious university. He studied psychology, and I studied neurosurgery. Everyone said we were the perfect couple, so it was only natural that we got married after graduating from graduate school. Now he's a professor at the university, and I'm a neurosurgeon at the central city hospital. My mom always told me from a young age that I should never be a clinging vine relying on a man; I should have my own career and life, not revolve entirely around a man. I thought she was right, but I never expected reality to slap me so hard. In the days after I noticed something was off with him, I remained silent, outwardly appearing completely unaware of everything. However, I adjusted my shifts with my colleagues and brought homemade lunches to his school every day to see him. One day, while Dimitrie was in class, I waited for him in his office. One of his colleagues joked with me, "Sis, you're finally here. If you didn't come, the women in our office would have eaten Dim alive." Although it was said in a joking tone, I could sense something was amiss. When Dimitrie saw me after work, I was chatting happily with his colleague. He asked, "What are you guys talking about? So happy, you didn't even notice I was here." I looked at him and casually said, "Your colleague was just joking with me, saying that a pretty female professor at your school has her eyes on you." Dimitrie immediately pretended to be angry, "Don't say that, there's no such female teacher. My heart only has room for you." I held his hand and said, "I know, I know you wouldn't do such a thing." His expression remained normal, as if my words were truly just a joke. I have to say, people who study psychology have strong minds; they don't reveal any inner emotions. After bringing Dimitrie lunch for a few days, I didn't notice anything unusual, as if that day was just me overthinking. Dimitrie and I have known each other since we were young; our youthful innocence and the passionate love of adulthood were all given to each other. We had long surpassed the existence of mere love, and I was unwilling to believe he would do such a thing. But reality always hits me like a harsh slap. After finishing a surgery, I found that my best friend Rilea had called me four or five times, so I called her back. "Hey, Ril, why did you call me? What's up?" Hearing my calm tone, she immediately lost her composure, "Where are you now? Do you know what I saw?" Hearing this, my expression immediately became serious, "What did you see?" I already had an answer forming in my mind, and sure enough, as I suspected, she saw that girl and Dimitrie walking hand in hand. Afraid I wouldn't believe her, she even took a photo. In the photo, the girl was holding Dimitrie's arm, with long, wavy hair dyed slightly yellow, clearly the owner of that strand of hair. And Dimitrie was smiling at her, with apparent tenderness. My breath caught for a moment; the sight of them together was so glaring. Even though I already knew he was cheating, when the evidence was laid out in front of me like this, I still felt a cold chill run through me. Before we got married, I had expressed the same view to him: "Zero tolerance for cheating, no compromise." I sat in the office, twirling the pen in my hand, planning my next steps... I couldn't possibly turn a blind eye to this; he had already crossed my bottom line. But I couldn't just divorce like that; I couldn't hand over everything I had worked hard for over the years to someone else. So, I already had my own plan in mind. I returned home very late, and when I got there, surprisingly, Dimitrie was still awake and even cooking, as if he had been waiting for me all along. I walked into the kitchen, and he turned around to hug me, even kissing the corner of my mouth. "Missed you so much, babe." I replied, "Me too." Two clearly insincere people, yet pretending to be so genuine. I still felt nauseated, as if I had swallowed something vile, but I kept reminding myself: I couldn't let him find out that I already knew. I've seen many people divorce, and no matter how many vows were made before, when faced with such situations, few remain dignified, and many show their true, ugly colors. I didn't want to reach that point, nor did I want my son to be with him. I used my connections and finally found out the woman's identity. It seems Dimitrie's colleague was right; Dimitrie had already hooked up with someone at the school. That girl is named Stayce, the daughter of the dean of their department. I remember having met her. The first time I saw her was when Dimitrie had just started his position. I accompanied him to the school and saw her. She was constantly talking to others, but her eyes would occasionally glance in Dimitrie's direction. I felt uncomfortable, but Dimitrie reassured me and promised to limit contact with her, which calmed me down. Some time later, I casually brought it up again and asked about their current relationship. He lightly tapped my head and said, "What are you thinking? Do you really think I have something going on with her? She's no longer in our department." "Jealous again?" I didn't say anything and remained silent. Looking back, maybe they were already involved. Who knows what they might have done behind my back. I called Rilea and asked her not to tell anyone about Dimitrie's affair. She was very angry, "Chloie, aren't you going to expose him? How can you stand this? If it were me, I would definitely divorce him." I sighed, "Ril, I can't. Divorce would be too costly for us, and Xylo is still so young. What would happen to him if we divorced?" There was a silence on the other end. I chose not to tell Rilea about my divorce plan. The fewer who know, the better.