My Revenge on My Husband and His Lover

I lay on the hospital bed. My whole body felt as if my bones had been taken apart and haphazardly pieced back together; every movement sent piercing pain through me. At fifty, I should have been enjoying retirement with Chip Green. We had planned this international trip to make up for the time we lost to our careers in our youth. But a sudden car accident shattered everything. A nurse wheeled in the treatment cart, followed by a sharply dressed lawyer. Chip Green sat on the hospital bed beside me; his injuries were lighter, at least enough for him to sit up. The lawyer placed an inheritance donation agreement on the bedside table, his tone gentle yet carrying an unmistakable authority. "Ms. Young, Mr. Green, regarding the partial donation of your company's assets, your signatures are required for confirmation." I raised my hand to take the pen, but my fingertips trembled uncontrollably. Chip Green took the pen first but did not sign immediately. His gaze toward me was complicated—filled with guilt, yet carrying a resoluteness I could not comprehend. "Yvette, there is something I must tell you." My heart suddenly sank, a dreadful premonition spreading through me. "I have a son outside." Those words pierced my heart like an ice pick, stabbing deep and mercilessly. I stared at him in disbelief, my throat tightening, making it hard even to breathe. "He is twenty-four years old, named Mike Green." Chip Green's voice went on, each word stabbing at my nerves. "After we die, the company will be handed over to Mike to inherit." "What did you say?" I finally found my voice, hoarse and unfamiliar even to myself. Chip Green avoided my gaze, his tone edged with impatience: "Yvette, don't get so worked up. This is for the good of the company." Just then, the hospital room door was pushed open. A woman in a white dress entered, looking gentle and delicate, cradling a photo frame in her arms. Inside the frame was a photograph of a young man whose features bore a strong resemblance—seven points alike—to Chip Green. "Chip, I brought Mike to see you." Her voice was tender to the point of sweetness, and her eyes toward Chip were full of reliance. Chip immediately revealed a softness I had never seen before. "Lillian, what brings you here? Was the trip tiring?" I had a faint recollection of this woman. She was Chip Green's childhood friend, Lillian Scott. When we married, she even attended the wedding, smiling as she said she would bless us. It turned out all those blessings were a lie. They had long been secretly seeing each other and even had a child. As I looked at the painful scene before me, a sharp pain stabbed my chest. Breathing became increasingly difficult, and the world before my eyes began to blur. The voices of Chip Green and Lillian Scott seemed to come from a faraway place. "Yvette, please don't be angry. Lillian and I had no choice..." "Ms. Young, are you okay?" In the final moment before my consciousness slipped into darkness, I had only one thought. Chip Green, Lillian Scott—if I have another life, I will never forgive you.