Sure! Here's the translation: "I am the gentle sweet wife in everyone's eyes. When my husband is abusive, I silently endure; when he cheats, I cry and forgive. Even when he says his boss likes married women and wants me to sleep with him, I reluctantly agree. He thinks I am weak and incapable, so he happily turns and leaves. After he goes, I wipe away the fake tears from my face and touch the back of my head. Covered by a thick mass of hair is another face, one that is almost taking shape- He still doesn't know that another me inside is about to awaken."
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
**I Am the Sweet Wife Everyone Talks About**
My husband abuses me, and I suffer in silence; my husband cheats on me, and I cry but still forgive him. Even when my husband said his boss likes married women and asked me to sleep with him, I grudgingly agreed.
He thought I was weak and helpless, so he turned around and left, satisfied.
After he left, I wiped away my fake tears and touched the back of my head. Hidden beneath my thick hair was another face, almost fully formed.
He didn't know that the other me inside this body was about to awaken.
...
At midnight, Callum still hadn't come home. I sat anxiously in the living room for a long time before hesitantly calling him.
The phone rang for a while before it was finally answered. Callum's impatient voice came through the line, "What now?"
I replied meekly, "Honey, when are you coming back? I'm afraid to sleep alone."
There was a moment of silence, followed by a burst of laughter from the other end.
Someone teased, "Callum, I didn't know your sweet wife couldn't live without you!"
Before Callum could respond, a woman's flirtatious voice chimed in, "Callum, your wife is so strict. It's only midnight, and she's already calling you home."
Callum didn't say anything, but I heard a loud, smacking kiss through the phone, followed by the woman's playful complaints.
"Stop it, your wife can hear us. Why are you kissing me?"
They flirted for a while before Callum remembered me and said perfunctorily, "I told you I'm busy. Go to sleep by yourself. I'll come back when I'm done."
I opened my mouth to say something, but the call had already ended.
Feeling hopeless, I hugged my blanket and went back to the bedroom.
I thought Callum wouldn't come back tonight, but to my surprise, just two hours later, there was a loud banging on the door.
I eagerly got out of bed to open the door, and sure enough, it was Callum.
He walked in without changing his shoes, leaving dirty footprints on the floor I had just cleaned that day.
I was used to it by now and followed behind him, meticulously cleaning up.
Seeing me busy, he ignored me and sat on the sofa, cursing, "Didn't I tell you not to call me at night? Your call messed up my luck, and that's why I lost at cards!"
I didn't dare to argue and quietly went to the kitchen to make him some noodles.
But Callum grew more agitated as he spoke. Suddenly, he stood up and shouted, "Damn it, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have lost so much money tonight!"
I couldn't hold back and murmured a retort, "Honey, then why don't you just stop gambling?"
This sentence instantly ignited his fury.
He crossed the table in two steps, veins bulging in his neck, grabbed my collar, and snarled, "You wretched woman, you made me lose money, and you still dare to talk back? Do you think I won't hit you?"
Before he finished speaking, he raised his arm and punched me in the face.
I screamed as I was thrown to the ground, but he didn't stop. He continued to punch and kick me, cursing, "You unlucky thing, say that again if you dare!"
I covered my head and could only beg for mercy.
After half an hour, he finally exhausted his anger and went to the bedroom to sleep.
I struggled to get up from the floor, my body bruised and blood oozing from my nose and mouth.
Since marrying Callum, I had lost count of how many times I had been beaten.
At first, he would pretend to comfort me, apologize, and plead with me not to divorce him.
But gradually, he realized he didn't need to make any effort. I would forgive him and continue to tolerate his abuse.
So later, he didn't even bother to pretend anymore.