My husband remarried with an air hostess while I was bedridden, unaware that I owned $2.7M in assets

You can’t even take care of the house, let’s get a divorce. Tom said with a smirk as he entered the hospital room. I was hooked up to various medical devices and a girl I didn’t recognize was standing next to him. Tom didn’t know that I had a net worth of $6 million and a divorce in this situation would be a matter of life and death for a housewife like me. Okay, he has divorce papers.

I told myself that I couldn’t be with a man who had insulted his wife to such an extent. I reached into my pocket and took out the divorce papers I always carried with me and handed them to Tom with a grin. He took them. Now I can say goodbye to you. I’ll be happy with her so don’t worry. Tom said as he wrapped his arms around the girl called Katherine Lyen. She sneered at me and said, “Take care, girl, you’re not a girl anymore, take care, girl.” With that, the two of them left the hospital room, laughing loudly, but their happiness only lasted for a while. There were only two people in the room, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Today was Friday, so the divorce proceedings would be processed on Monday.

Oh I couldn’t wait another 3 days. My name is Analie Johnson, a 45-year-old housewife, from a normal farm. I have no special skills, but I pride myself on my extensive cooking repertoire. My husband, Tom, and I are the same age and were classmates in college. We both came to New York from the countryside, and since we lived separately, I often cooked various dishes for Tom using vegetables and rice sent by our families. People often say I won his heart through his stomach, and I know Tom was and is unable to do any housework. I have been taking care of him since we started dating and after marriage, I continued to do all the housework. Sadly, we were not blessed with children but we still enjoyed our life together as a couple. We both love to eat and on Tom’s days off, we often went for long drives just to enjoy good food. When we first got married, Tom was very kind but after about three years, he became quite controlling. He never hit me, his words became harsh and he often said hurtful things but I didn’t have the energy to argue. I kept thinking that he wouldn’t listen anyway because I was a full-time housewife. I felt inferior and couldn’t stand up to him.

Tom joined a famous company after graduating from University but he quit after about 5 years. He quickly found a new job but quit again after a short time. Because of this, our income was unstable and we often had financial difficulties. However, at the company he had been with for the past 2 years, he seemed to get along well with his colleagues. I had a very slim hope that he could work there for a long time. Then one day, Tom came home earlier than usual. I went home. I quit. What happened? I accidentally blurted out in surprise, causing Tom’s eyebrows to twitch in panic. I stopped cooking and ran to him. I’m sorry, I was just shocked. No welcome, welcome back and you’re criticizing what I do. You’re being quite bold. Tom responded with words. I froze. He was in a bad mood today and if I said the wrong thing, things could get worse. I’m sorry. I said as long as you understand.

He grumbled. My apology comforted him somewhat and he sat on the sofa, turning around. on tv, i quietly put a beer and a glass on the table, do you want to have dinner or take a bath, food and wine, he said to avoid making tom sad, i played the role of a good wife, i used to have a strong sense of self but after 14 years of living with tom, since the age of 28, i rarely show my true self after eating and drinking, tom seems happier, tom has fallen asleep on the sofa, snoring loudly, the table is in such a state.

Tom’s snores echoed in the living room as the TV flickered blue light over his half-open mouth. I stood there for a while, just staring at the man I used to love — the man who had once knelt under a cherry tree and promised, “Even if we lose everything, I’ll never leave you.”

How funny.
Promises are like smoke — they disappear when the fire dies.

I cleaned the table quietly, wiping the empty beer glass he had used. My reflection in it looked like a stranger. Pale. Tired. But my eyes… my eyes were still sharp.

That night, as Tom slept, I opened the small notebook hidden in the drawer of my bedside table. My late father had taught me never to rely on anyone — not even love.

For years, I’d secretly invested part of my family inheritance in farmland leases, a small tech startup, and stocks my cousin in Chicago helped me manage. Every dollar Tom spent came from my account. He never knew. He thought my “old family farm” barely made enough for groceries.

If only he knew — I owned 2.7 million dollars in real estate and liquid assets under my maiden name.

But I said nothing. Not yet.