A Hundred Bracelets

Every time my husband cheated, he gave me a bracelet. I collected 99 bracelets in four years of marriage—I forgave him 99 times. He was away on a business trip for three days lately. When he came back, he brought home a rare bracelet worth Ten Million Dollars. That was when I knew it was time to ask for a divorce.

A Hundred Bracelets

Every time my husband cheated, he gave me a bracelet. I collected 99 bracelets in four years of marriage—I forgave him 99 times. He was away on a business trip for three days lately. When he came back, he brought home a rare bracelet worth Ten Million Dollars. That was when I knew it was time to ask for a divorce.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

James Muller walked through the door just as I was tossing the post-abortion care sheet into the trash. Three days ago, while he was supposedly on a business trip, he was actually at a birthday party—for another woman. He gifted the woman a million-dollar house. I got so upset that I had a miscarriage. Back from the hospital, I stared at the jewelry box full of bracelets—99 of them. Then I ordered fried chicken and a cold soda, ignoring everything the doctor told me. James walked over, snatched the food, and threw it away. "You know you had a bad stomach. Why are you still eating this stuff?" He pulled a small box from his bag and handed it to me. "Got you something. It took a lot of effort." Inside was a bracelet. Rare. Expensive. Probably worth over 10 million dollars. He was not lying. This kind of piece was difficult to get. He must have pulled every string he had. If he had given it to me before we got married, I would have jumped into his arms. At this point, though, I could not even pretend to care. I did not want to try it on. He crouched down in front of me, trying to catch my eye. "Are you mad? Because I didn't go with you to see your mom? I'll take you now if you want." I looked away and said quietly, "It's fine. Her memorial was three days ago." Before we got married, we made a deal. We could skip every celebration—but he had to be there at my mom's memorial. He kept that promise for the first three years. This year, after work, I called him. He sweetly said he had left town that morning for a business trip. I checked the flights—only one left that day, and it was too late. He would not make it. So I went alone. I stood in front of my mom's grave and learned James had not been on a trip. He had spent the day with a young woman and gifted her a house. That was when I lost the baby. "That was your mom's memorial? Sorry, babe. I totally forgot." He looked surprised. It did not seem fake. He knelt down, took my hand, and tried to smooth things over. "Let me make it up to you. I'll buy you another bracelet—something better. This one cost twenty mil. I'll get you one for thirty." Every time James screwed up, he would do the same old routine—apologize, act like the perfect boyfriend, then throw money at it. In six years, I had never seen him raise his voice. To everyone else, he was the dream husband. I, however, knew how hollow this marriage really was. I was about to say I wanted a divorce—then my stomach growled. He smiled and patted my head like I was a kid. "I'll make you some porridge. You think about what you want—another bracelet or maybe a house." He walked into the kitchen. His phone buzzed on the coffee table. I picked it up. A message popped up from Yvonne. [James, thank you for the big house! I had the best three days.] My heart dropped. I opened her profile. Her banner photo showed her and James on a mountain. She smiled into the camera, throwing up a peace sign. He faced away, showing just enough of his cool-guy silhouette. My hands started shaking. I scrolled through her feed. Every post in the past three days was about their trip. [He's here—I don't have to open bottles anymore!] [OMG, my crush has the cutest smile!] [POV: A celebrity dating her CEO boyfriend!] James had liked almost all of them. The newest post was a picture of the bracelet he gave me. [Ew. Ugly bracelet. Would not wear it even if it were free.] That was the only one he did not like. The phone buzzed again. [James, I drank too much after you left. Can you come over tonight?] I frowned. From the kitchen, he called out, "Babe, porridge's almost ready!" I installed the bugging app I had prepared on his phone, and cleaned the trace. Then I set the phone back down. James walked out with a bowl of shrimp porridge, glanced at his phone, and smiled—barely. Then he put on his serious face. "Something came up at work. I need to head back to the office." I stirred my porridge slowly. "If it's going to be a late night, just sleep at the office.""Okay." He looked relieved. Before leaving, he even ran a bath for me.

Chapter 2 Chapter 2

After James left, I placed the bracelet into the jewelry box. Each box could hold 20. This was the fifth one I had filled. It started three years ago. The first time rumors came out about James flirting with a young girl at work. He rushed home right away to explain, saying it was just part of the job. To prove it, he bought me a bracelet that cost about 20 thousand dollars. I actually smiled when I got it. It felt like an apology back then, like he cared about my feelings and knew what I liked. However, the bracelets kept coming. More and more, pricier and flashier each time. Eventually, I stopped smiling. Six months ago, on my birthday, he gave me the 80th bracelet. I made up my mind that night to file for divorce once it hit the 100th. Half an hour later, my phone buzzed. A soft, whiny female voice came through. "Baby, are you here yet? Ugh, I missed you so much." It was the wiretap from James' phone, feeding live audio into mine. He went to meet Yvonne. "You told me to come. How much did you drink?" he asked. She snorted playfully, "Just kidding. I didn't drink. I just didn't want you going back to that dragon lady." James remained silent for a while before he said coldly, "Yvonne, don't talk about her like that." She scoffed. "Fine, I get it. No calling her names—even when she's not around. "She'd be happy to know you're defending her like this." Her tone was pouty, but there was no mistaking that displeased lilt to her voice. James sighed deeply and pulled her close. "Come here, give me a kiss." Then came a long stretch of kissing sounds, followed by a door closing. Silence. They were probably in the bedroom. Half an hour later, the wiretap picked up more whispering. "James, did you handle what you promised? Ball's been gone for three days," she asked sweetly. "Yeah." He hesitated, but his voice was still gentle. "I'll go with you tomorrow. Just keep it quiet. Don't let Michelle find out." My stomach twisted. Ball was Yvonne's dog. I did not know it had died. What was James helping her with that he needed to hide it from me? Before I could process it, James took his phone into the bedroom. The passionate night was long. My eyes were wide open till morning. I had heard about Yvonne long ago. She was James' first love back in high school. They had been together publicly for a while, until his family shut it down. James' mom even ran a background check on her. No one knew what she found, but both parents agreed to break them up. James pushed back hard for months. In the end, however, it was Yvonne who gave up first. She left the country to study abroad, thanks to James' mom. James fell into a slump for years until he met me. I thought he had moved on when he married me. Clearly, I was wrong. I opened the photo Yvonne had posted again, this time the house deed. James had bought women gifts before—bags, necklaces, shoes—but never a house. This was the first. The next morning, James came home. He saw my eyebags and sat beside me, pulling me into his arms. "You didn't sleep well last night?" he asked, full of concern. "No," I rubbed my temples and leaned away. "Can you make me some noodles? I'm starving." "Of course. You're my wife," he said with a soft smile, like nothing had happened the night before. He walked into the kitchen. I grabbed his phone and opened his chat with Yvonne. The latest messages were from ten minutes ago. [After you handle her, come pick me up? I want to visit her mom's grave with you.] [Yeah. Don't tell anyone.] [Relax, baby. Love you~] A chill crept down my spine. What were they doing at my mother's grave? After breakfast, James said he was heading back to work. I did not believe him. I printed the old report James' mom had put together on Yvonne years ago and drove to the cemetery. Two hours later, I stepped through the cemetery gates—and there they were. Standing in front of my mother's grave.

Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Yvonne stood in all black, cradling an urn in her arms, eyes filled with sorrow. Next to her, James gave instructions to three bodyguards as they dug into the empty burial plot to the left of my mother's grave. They did not see me walking up. Soon, the bodyguards had dug a deep hole. Yvonne knelt down and gently placed the urn inside, choking back tears. "Rest in peace, Ball." My head pounded as I marched forward and slapped her across the face. "Who permitted you to use that plot?!" She turned, startled, her expression a mix of shock and hurt. "I—" she stammered. I clenched my jaw and slapped her harder. "Take that urn and get it the hell out of here. Now!" I rarely lost my temper in public. I paid a fortune to purchase the two empty plots beside hers—one for my dad, the other for me. It was her last wish, to have our family of three buried side by side. It was totally nonsense that Yvonne tried to bury her dog here. Yvonne's cheeks turned red, and she leaned against James, tears brimming. "James, she hit me—" she whimpered. James' face darkened. Clearly, he had not expected me to show up. He stepped back slightly, putting space between himself and Yvonne. "Michelle, please calm down. Let me explain." He reached out to touch me, but Yvonne quickly stepped between us. Yvonne looked up at him innocently, tears running down her swollen cheeks. James swallowed whatever scolding he had been about to give her. "Michelle, listen to me. I can explain." I stared at him coldly. "Shut up. Just tell her to take that dog's urn and leave." James sighed. "She didn't mean any harm, she just wanted the dog to rest in peace. She promised not to put up a tombstone. Maybe we can just—""No. Not happening." I was shaking with rage. "My mother hated dogs, you know that. If the dog is buried here, I swear we're getting a divorce today. "My mom would never have accepted a son-in-law like you. Don't forget how good she was to you when she was alive." It was the first time I had ever brought up divorce. James' expression turned grim. "Michelle—" Yvonne suddenly burst into loud sobs. "I've heard about you, Michelle," she sniffled. "I get that you're in a bad mood, but we could've handled it quietly. Stop being stubborn. "Just yell at me if you just need to yell at someone. I hate seeing James so torn up—" My eyes narrowed. "You asked for it." I grabbed her hair and dragged her to the edge of the hole the guards had just dug. Then I kicked her hard, forcing her to her knees. She cried louder, pitiful and dramatic. I did not even blink. "Pick up that urn. Go to my mother's grave. Kneel. Apologize. Or I will rip your face off." Yvonne trembled. She reached the urn and looked up at James, eyes full of silent pleading. His face darkened even more. "Enough," he said. "The urn isn't even buried yet. It's going too far to force her to kneel and apologize." My heart pounded. "Am I? There are many cemeteries out there, but why my mother's? She's desecrating my mother's peace. What the hell do you think she's trying to do?" Yvonne sobbed harder and said, "Michelle, please don't yell at James. I'll kneel." She started to move, but James held her back, gently taking the urn from her. "You don't have to kneel. I'll take you somewhere else to bury Ball." The two of them turned and walked away, leaving me behind like I was the one who had done something wrong. I let out a bitter laugh and turned to the bodyguards. "Fill the hole back up." Just then, something caught my eye. The empty plot on the other side of my mother's grave—the one I had also bought, had a brand new tombstone.