Love Doesn’t Come in Pairs

I’m the good wife my husband always says I am.

I never check up on him, and I give him plenty of personal space.

On my birthday, his ex-girlfriend said she was lonely, so I offered to let my husband keep her company.

When his ex was diagnosed with a terminal illness, she wanted to spend some time with my husband before the end.

That was fine. I understood, and even bought him his train ticket.

My husband praised my generosity, saying all his friends envied him.

I told him to go without a worry, and to take his time coming back.

He was gone for half a year. At last, my husband returned.

When he saw my pregnant belly, his eyes turned red with anger. “We haven’t slept together in six months. Where did this baby come from?”