“The Truth Behind My Husband’s $10,000”

My name is Emily Carter, a woman lucky enough to be born with a beautiful face and a tall, attractive figure. Since I was little, my mother had always taught me that a daughter must study diligently: if I couldn’t get into a top school, at least attend a respectable one, and always complete my studies properly. But my mother also often reminded me of one thing that I never forgot: “A clever woman is no match for luck. The difference between women is in the husband they marry.” I understood that she wanted the best for me, so I always tried my hardest in school.

During my university years, I experienced love, but none of my relationships ever lasted because my mother would find out. The boys I dated were my age, still studying, without money or property. My mother said I was wasting my time on relationships like that. After graduation, I worked for a few years and then met Daniel Hughes, the owner of a large import-export company. Although he was 35, he was still single. He told me it was because he had been too focused on his business to make time for love.

I was attractive, educated, and gradually caught Daniel’s attention. I even took the initiative to express my feelings, which he seemed to appreciate. Eventually, Daniel brought me home to meet his family, and his mother adored me. With both families’ approval, we had a grand wedding, making my mother and I beam with pride.

After getting married, my life changed completely. I didn’t have to worry about money; household chores were handled by servants. Everything seemed perfect. Yet there was one thing that made me uneasy: after every intimate moment with Daniel, he would transfer $10,000 into my account.

As a wife, who wouldn’t feel pleased receiving money from her husband? Sometimes I asked why, and he would just say, “Consider it a bonus, buy whatever you want.” At the time, I thought, “This is the life of a rich husband’s wife—truly blissful.” I told myself that nothing could be happier than living in luxury and being pampered by your husband.

One day, I bought a stunning dress and decided to visit Daniel’s office to show it off. When I arrived, his secretary told me Daniel was in a meeting with a friend. I stood just outside the door, barely peeking in, when I overheard Daniel speaking to his friend:

“Every time I’m intimate with my wife, I think of Lillian, and I feel guilty toward my wife. That’s why I transfer money to her as a kind of atonement. My wife doesn’t know and happily goes shopping, showing off her purchases.”

“So you’re going to keep messing around with Lillian? I heard she has a husband and children in the U.S.?”

“I can’t help it. She keeps coming back to me, so I can’t leave her.”

I stood frozen, hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying. The secretary outside didn’t understand why I left so abruptly. I was terrified. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing from the very mouth of my husband, the man I had trusted.

It turned out that Daniel had a long-term love that his family never approved of. Lillian had moved to the U.S., married, but was unhappy. When she returned, it was just as Daniel and I were preparing to marry. Daniel had one foot in each world: he couldn’t forget his first love, but he had to marry the wife his parents approved.

And me? I was nothing more than a placeholder, a “proper wife” for appearances. He didn’t marry me for love. I had wanted a wealthy husband, a full life, and I had given him my first night, cared for him and his family, yet it meant nothing to him.

I was crushed, but the idea of divorce scared me. Becoming a divorced woman, leaving a wealthy husband, could I even find happiness elsewhere? I felt trapped between two worlds: one of material security, and one of dignity and true love.

In the days that followed, I lived in tension and fear. Every time Daniel called or messaged, my heart raced. I kept asking myself: did he still love me, or was it all just obligation?

One weekend evening, I went to the luxurious restaurant where Daniel often met with Lillian. Seeing them together, smiling and sharing familiar glances, I felt frozen. Everything around me blurred. I suddenly realized that all these years, I had been living an illusion, while my heart remained empty.

I stood up, leaving behind the wallet full of money and expensive gifts Daniel had given me, and walked out. The feeling was both liberating and painful. I knew this decision would change my life forever. I was losing a rich husband, losing material security, but I was reclaiming my right to live honestly with my own feelings, to choose my own happiness.

I realized that no amount of money or luxury could compensate for a heart that was deceived, for a love that wasn’t genuine. True happiness doesn’t come from $10,000 transfers or designer items, but from respect, loyalty, and sincerity.

I stepped forward on my own path, unsure of what the future held, but with something far more valuable: freedom, peace, and the hope of a true love that would never be measured in money or pretense.