Taking a step back leads to heaven, taking a step forward leads to hell.

My wife and I have been married for five years, and counting our courtship in college, we've been together for seven years. We have a lovely three-year-old son. She comes from a single-parent family; her mother passed away early, and she lived with her father for many years. She's 163cm tall and weighed 52kg after giving birth. She has a very full bust, which she says she inherited from her mother. In college, she was considered one of the most beautiful girls in her department, and many boys pursued her. She's the kind of person who lacks assertiveness and can't resist being persuaded. I also won her over with this kind of persistent pursuit. For the first few years, our sex life was rather uneventful, just ordinary marital sex, without any particularly passionate moments. It was more like a fixed routine: a few foreplays followed by sex, and then we were done. I thought life would continue like this, but two years ago, when I was sent abroad by my company, things slowly started to change.
Like many friends who are stationed abroad for extended periods, family conflicts and a fading of marital affection were unavoidable problems. From the initial months of phone arguments to the gradual escalation into a cold war, we both felt exhausted. Marriage at that time was merely a formality; the children and elderly were the main driving forces maintaining the relationship. Deep down, I loved her. Although I felt the urge to divorce after each argument, thinking of her good qualities always made me let it pass. On her birthday, I specially asked a friend in China to send her 199 roses as a blessing, causing quite a stir at her workplace and greatly satisfying her vanity. Finally, the day of my return arrived. Although I was once again embraced by the smog of my homeland, the feeling of being home was still wonderful. As the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. After 11 months apart, a passionate encounter was inevitable, and my wife was very accommodating, cooperating perfectly in all positions and movements. However, I slowly sensed something was amiss. At first, I thought it was just because we had been apart for so long, and some differences were unavoidable. But two or three months passed, and the strange feeling didn't diminish; instead, it intensified my unease. Previously, my wife was passive during sex, preferring me to take the lead and responding to my verbal and physical teasing to find the right feeling. Now, however, she seems more immersed in her own fantasies, her eyes closed, as if she were having sex with someone else, and I am more like a vibrator, fulfilling her fantasies. Besides, the frequency of her overtime work is another reason for my suspicion; it's unprecedented. Ultimately, her gradually cooling attitude towards me and my family convinced me that she must have a problem, but deep down, I still didn't want to believe that my wife, whom I had loved for so many years, would betray me. I
still remember that night, a Friday night. I lied to her, saying I was going to Beijing for a three-day business trip, attending a meeting at work, and that she had entrusted the child to my mother, saying she was going to stay with her father for two days. I waited for her at the entrance of her father's apartment complex before 7 pm. According to her normal off-work time, she should have arrived soon. That period felt incredibly long, like waiting for an eternity. It wasn't until 10:30 pm that I saw her return, getting out of a Volkswagen Tiguan. Because of the distance, by the time I recognized her, the car had already driven away. I didn't stop her immediately, but quietly followed her into the residential area. After she went upstairs, I called her, and as expected, she lied. But from her tone, I could tell she also sensed my unusual behavior, yet she still asked me guiltily, "Weren't you in a meeting in Beijing?" I just coldly said, "I'm downstairs at your place. Do you want me to come up, or do you want to come down yourself?" Without the slightest hesitation, she ran downstairs. We walked along the deserted street, neither of us speaking, and she dared not speak either. Going home was out of the question; my child and mother were there. I had no choice but to find a nearby budget hotel and check in. At that moment, I had no idea what kind of truth I would face. (To be continued)

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Taking a step back leads to heaven, taking a step forward leads to hell.

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