Unsolved mystery

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-10 08:16:07

Looking at my sleeping wife beside me, a surge of resentment welled up inside me, a resentment tinged with boundless love, a contradiction that left me bewildered. The night before last, unable to sleep, I checked my wife's computer. Initially, it was just curiosity; my wife always teased me about not knowing how to use a computer, and I simply wanted to try this unfamiliar and perplexing machine on my own. When I turned it on, the computer asked for a password? I thought: Why would I need a password for a perfectly good computer at home? It's not some high-level state secret. I tried several times without success, but I'm a very patient and persistent person. Hmm! I started trying combinations of phone numbers and birthdays, and finally… Bingo… Haha! The password was our wedding anniversary, and a sweet feeling welled up inside me. Email was something I needed to learn first; these days, not knowing something feels like a sin. I carefully only dared to click on the small icons on the desktop, but nothing happened. Then I noticed my wife had mentioned some buttons at the bottom, so I clicked on each of the icons. When I clicked on the one that looked like the Earth, a screen popped up that startled me. The computer asked if I wanted to connect online! Good heavens! What would happen if I connected? I vaguely remembered it making a loud, screeching noise. No way, I didn't want to wake my wife and let her laugh at me. Then I clicked on another small icon next to it, and another screen popped up. Right, this was the email. I knew what it looked like, but I didn't know where it was. I'm not completely stupid. I'm not completely clueless about computers, I'm just afraid of them. The company gave us over ten hours of training, but I avoided it whenever possible, which my wife laughed at for ages. The computer instructor said that studying the manual was the best way to learn. Just as I was about to press the manual, the first line of the email appeared: "...Darling..." I struggled for a long time before finally enlarging the email. It was a letter from a strange man to my wife, filled with explicit sexual desire. Not just one, but four or five more, involving two men. I tried opening the deleted emails and the backups of sent items; there were more secrets inside, secrets that gripped me like a death knell, my hands trembling. My wife was having physical relationships with two men simultaneously, but I knew nothing about it. I quietly shut down the computer, hoping I hadn't left any trace. My stomach began to ache, I felt nauseous but couldn't vomit. I put on my coat and decided to go to the convenience store at the end of the alley to buy a pack of cigarettes. When I opened the door, I realized I hadn't smoked for over a year. Sitting in the courtyard, I smoked one cigarette after another, trying to recall the past few weeks. My wife hadn't changed at all. I only knew that she had been under immense pressure early last year because of a promotion, constantly complaining and even almost quitting her job. That was understandable, wasn't it? Work pressure was normal for me; it usually takes time to get used to, and things would naturally get better. I just thought that such complaining was meaningless. I could only advise her to face the problems and solve the difficulties; everything would soon fall into place. Looking back, we often argued during that time. She always thought my suggestions were bad, while I thought she lacked experience. When was this problem resolved? I can't recall. We ended up giving up on communicating about work, since we were in different fields. The complaints and arguments seemed to disappear naturally afterward. Was it during that period? But I couldn't see any other changes in my wife. She still loved me, our home, and our children; I had no doubt about that. I could see it in her eyes. Over the years, the way my wife looked at me has always been tender, always holding me captive, unchanged, never changed. Although our intimacy wasn't frequent, I could tell she was very satisfied. Was it all an act? But the wetness, the cries, were so real. Was it because I didn't do it enough? Was it because I didn't last long enough? Or was it because I was bad at it or my penis was too small? I started to get angry. The nicotine I hadn't been used to made me nauseous. I thought we needed to talk about this properly, so I got up and went home. Seeing my wife sleeping soundly, I suddenly felt a surge of emotion, not anger, but a feeling of tenderness. What kind of woman is my wife? Twenty years of love, courtship, and marriage—everything has crumbled. Why did you lie to me? Logically, my wife should be a stranger to me now, but she isn't. I feel an inexplicable closeness between us. But why? What went wrong? I can't even ask my wife, I can't even wake her, so innocent and pure. My heart aches for her so much! I lie down and gently kiss her cheek. Half-awake, she murmurs, "Why does it smell like smoke?"

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