He Couldn't Quit Smoking, So I Quit Him

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My husband, Matt, had a heavy smoking habit. I was about to post online for advice to help him quit when I stumbled upon a question in a quit smoking thread:

Under what circumstances would a husband truly want to quit smoking?

The top reply had a million likes.

If your husband truly loves you, he wouldn't smoke at all.

My husband and I are both doctors, we know smoking is harmful, especially after having children, he wouldn't even touch a cigarette.

The comment section was filled with angry replies.

If your husband doesnt smoke, why are you replying to this thread? Maybe he smokes in secret?

To shut down the online critics, the original poster shared a family photo of her and her husband and child.

Our childs health indicators are all normal, thanks for your concern. But even if he did smoke, what then? On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, he comes home from his shift without even a whiff of smoke. Isnt that a testament to his love?

The angry comments continued, but I kept zooming in on that family photo.

My blood ran cold.

The man who didnt smoke on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and the man addicted to cigarettes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, were both my husband, Matt Vincent.

I compulsively zoomed in on the family photo, staring at that familiar face.

He would be off work in twenty minutes, and then I could share the good news I had for him.

I gently touched my slightly bulging belly, my heart feeling as if it were being shredded by a knife.

Matts last angry message to me was still on my phone:

I told you I wouldnt quit smoking. No matter how much you try to convince me, its useless. Dont be so selfish.

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, when he was with me, he could puff away to his hearts content.

But on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, when he was with Susan Thorne, he was a perfect family man, not even smelling of smoke.

For five years, this apartment had been permeated with the smell of smoke.

Every day I had to deep clean, using bottle after bottle of air freshener.

It was still so foul.

It even made me nauseous.

I took a cab to the hospital, resolute in my decision to have an abortion.

The babys father is a heavy smoker; this child wont be healthy either.

The doctor nodded helplessly, mentioning casually:

Dr. Vincent, the head of the department next door, hasnt touched a single cigarette since his wife had their child. Responsible husbands like that are rare these days.

He joked: If you marry a doctor, you wont have these concerns.

I almost laughed and cried at the same time.

Yes, the doctor I married was an addict, but in everyone elses eyes, he was a good, responsible man.

While waiting for my appointment, Matt walked toward me, followed by a large group of interns.

His expression was a bit awkward:

I said too much yesterday. Dont take it to heart.

I didnt hear what he said. All I noticed was the refreshing mint scent emanating from him.

I once carefully selected expensive mint candies, hoping he would use them as a substitute for smoking.

He immediately scattered them across the floor, saying he hated the smell of mint.

I glanced at my phone and understood.

It was Thursday. He was on call and wouldn't be coming home.

He would be going to his other home.

I forced an ugly smile.

Matt cautiously looked around before patting my shoulder, Go home.

I, his lawfully wedded wife, felt like a clandestine mistress.

He turned and walked away.

He accidentally stepped on my prenatal test results, which I had just dropped, and frowned in distaste: You should be more observant. If theres trash on the floor, you should pick it up and throw it away immediately.

An intern crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trash can.

My heart ached.

Presumably, in his mind, both the baby and I were just trash that could be discarded at will.

In that case, I didnt want this man anymore either.

After getting the appointment for my abortion in three days, I called a number I hadn't contacted in five years:

You said youd always keep a position open for me. Does that still hold true?

Back home, the greasy smell of smoke that hit me instantly confirmed my exhaustion.

Everyone in my circle knew.

As a law student, I had quit my job to support Matts preparations for his medical professorship exams.

He couldn't bear for me to abandon my dreams, so he married me early, against his familys wishes.

Even during his busy and tiring hospital internship, he would bring me little surprises after his late-night shifts.

He poured everything into being a devoted husband.

But later, he often said the hospitals evaluations put too much pressure on him, and he started smoking pack after pack.

From the balcony to the bathroom, and eventually, hed just light up directly in the bedroom.

I pleaded with him countless times to quit, even for the sake of trying for a baby.

But all I got was his hysteria.

Of course you wouldnt understand! You spend all day at home, eating and drinking, going shopping when youre bored. What stress could you possibly have?!

I, once an accomplished lawyer who could debate a room full of people, was countless times rendered speechless by his rebuttals.

But he probably forgot that I was trapped in this smoke-infused apartment because of him.

In the end, he found a mistress, a doctor with a dazzling career, to bear his children.

After packing my bags to leave, I clicked on Susan Thornes profile.

Her latest video was marked Visible only to me.

On a messy bedsheet, Matt lay panting, his face filled with satiation.

Since the child grew up, we havent enjoyed ourselves like this in a long time.

Matt didnt light a post-coital cigarette. Instead, he gently kissed Susans forehead.

It was then that I noticed the scar on Matts ribs, which he always covered with a band-aid. It was actually the initials of their three names.

When I finally came to my senses, tears were already splashing onto the screen.

Indignant, I commented below: Dont you feel ashamed, stealing someone elses husband?

Immediately after, the entire video was deleted.

But it wasn't hard to feel that she was declaring war.

Using the knowledge I gained in law school, I drafted a divorce agreement for myself.

Just as I typed the last word, the hospital suddenly called.

Ms. Lin, your mother has had a sudden heart attack. Her condition is very serious, and we need you to come to the hospital immediately to sign some papers!

I stumbled and ran to the hospital.

My mother lay on the hospital bed, barely clinging to life, her voice muffled by the oxygen mask, as if coming from another world.

My attending doctor said said you stole her husband

I quickly checked the tag at the head of the bed.

My mothers new attending physician was indeed Susan Thorne.

But I was Matts legally married wife. How could a mistress say such a thing?

Mom, I

I cried, about to explain, but my mother wouldnt even spare me another glance as she was wheeled into the operating room.

In the desolate hallway, I helplessly called Matt.

The cold, mechanical female voice was my only answer.

The phone number he had specially customized for me was switched off when I needed him most.

Just then, a video popped up on my phone.

Outside the courthouse, Susan Thorne, holding a prenatal test result, embraced Matt from behind, desperately pleading:

Im pregnant. Although I dont want to disrupt your and her life, at least, please guarantee the childs future.

The baby is still so small. You wouldnt just abandon me, right?

Susan cried, her face like a weeping pear blossom, a truly pitiable sight.

Even my heart clenched.

It felt like an eternity.

Matts deep voice, clear in the cold wind, finally broke the silence:

Lets go in. Ill marry you.

The videos date was the exact same day Matt and I got married.

I rushed to the courthouse in a daze. The clerk told me my marriage certificate was fake.

Mr. Vincents wife for the past five years has always been Ms. Susan Thorne.

That single, short sentence pronounced a death sentence on my marriage.

Five years ago, Matt had said his parents opposed our marriage, so we skipped the wedding ceremony.

After quickly getting our marriage certificate, he flew to Paris for a month-long exchange program.

But it was during that very time that Susan Thorne posted a lavish wedding ceremony video on her profile.

Matts parents were seen placing a family heirloom necklace around Susans neck. Perhaps they never even knew I existed.

It turned out I was the one living in the shadows, the mistress.

The sudden, cruel truth struck me like a burning arrow, causing me to faint from the shock.

When I opened my eyes again, I was already in the hospital.

Matt sat by the bed, his face grim, reeking of stale cigarette smoke.

You knew I was on call last night, yet you kept calling me frantically. When I didnt answer, you pretended to be sick. Thats just too much.

I have several surgeries waiting for me. Dont be so unreasonable.

But seeing my gloomy expression, and remembering it was Friday, his tone softened slightly:

Be on time for the awards ceremony tomorrow.

The next day, Matt and Susan Thorne, as the hospitals star doctors, stood together looking exactly like a well-matched, attractive couple.

Everyones mocking gazes landed on me.

Trapped at home for years, I carried the unshakeable smell of stale second-hand smoke.

Is that Dr. Vincents wife? Why does she look ten years older, like a nanny? Its laughable.

I wonder what Dr. Vincent was thinking. Dr. Thorne has a Ph.D., shes young and beautiful. Shed be so much more presentable.

She smells awful, but Dr. Vincent doesnt smoke, does she smoke herself?

Hearing these words now only felt ironic.

I really wasnt fit to be Matts wife; I was just an unrecognized mistress.

The Vincent family heirloom jade pendant on Susan Thornes neck still stung my eyes.

I had tirelessly managed our small home, playing the role of a Vincent family daughter-in-law for five years, yet I had never even met his parents.

To even glimpse the Vincent family heirloom, I had to see it on another woman.

Susan Thorne linked her arm through Matts, smiling as she walked towards me.

They say Mrs. Vincent is virtuous and gentle. Seeing her today, the rumors are certainly true.

She emphasized the words Mrs. Vincent, her eyes filled with mockery.

I opened my mouth, wanting to confront her about provoking my mother, but then realized I didnt even have the right to question her.

To my surprise, Susan Thorne noticed my resentment, smiling as she lowered her voice and whispered in my ear:

I just shared some of my and my husbands daily life with your mother. I really didnt expect her to enjoy listening so much. Ill go talk to her again later.

The womans challenging smile grew larger and larger in my vision.

Unable to bear it any longer, I forcefully pushed her away.

Shut up!

Lynn Forrest, are you crazy?! Matt grabbed my arm, out of control, his eyes filled with disgust for me.

How dare you lay hands on someone in public? Do you want me to throw you out?!

But Susan Thorne, where he couldn't see, was still taunting me.

By the time I reacted, I had already lunged forward, grabbing her collar, my eyes blazing with fury.

To my surprise, the woman didnt get angry; instead, she smiled, staring at my phone.

The next second, my phone suddenly displayed my mothers death certificate.