The night before my wife left for Berlin on business, I switched her birth control pill to folic acid tablets.
The two pills were the same size and similar in color, so she wouldn't have noticed.
If it hadn't been for the message that popped up at two o'clock in the morning three days ago - "Max said Berlin's winter is very cold, but I will keep you warm" - I might never have known who was hiding under the note "Project Team M".
For six months, I spent every minute collecting evidence: secret social accounts, mysterious transfers of 3,000 per month, and the pair of men's shoes in the video call that did not belong to her.
What sent a chill down my spine was that she had long since discovered that I had changed my medication. Instead of revealing it, she bought her own folic acid to cooperate with my acting.
When she returned home with a full belly and said with a smile, "We are going to be parents," I hugged her with a smile and handed over the paternity test report and divorce agreement.
"Ruling out Pei Zheng as the biological father of the fetus." She thought it was perfect, but she didn't know that the identity of the hunter and the prey was never hers.
