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My boyfriend Bruce was a psychologist, known for his asceticism. He claims that patients are just patients, and even if they are as beautiful as angels, he won't be tempted. Until that bold and passionate young woman with depression appeared, he became a beast in human form. Later, he lived a life worse than that of a beast. Bruce was the perfect boyfriend. He was good-looking, had a great personality, and had a respectable job—there was nothing to criticize about him. Even my best friend says he was a great guy. What’s even more rare and precious was that he had strong boundaries and had never had any romantic entanglements. He gave me a sense of security. When he went out to dinner with his college classmates, he proactively called me on video to let me know. The video showed only men. “Bruce, you’ve been dating for so many years, your relationship is stable—when are you getting married? I’ll give you a big gift.” Hearing their teasing, I blushed and hung up the call. After dating Bruce for seven years, it was time to consider the next step. My family and friends were urging me, and I started to get anxious, but Bruce remained calm as ever. He claimed he was busy with work lately and would marry me once things stabilized. I believed him. Because a month ago, while cleaning the room, I accidentally discovered a ring in his study—an engagement ring. I pretended not to notice and put it back in its place, but my heart was filled with joy. “So he was planning to surprise me.” I waited for that day to come. One night, Bruce came home from a dinner gathering and hugged me from behind while I was asleep. “Honey, I missed you.” Half-asleep, I listened to his love talk. Bruce was a gentlemanly and steady person who didn’t usually say lover’s honeyed words, but when he was deeply in love, he couldn’t help but express it. However, lately, he had been unusually affectionate toward me when he came home from work, and the love talk just flowed out from his mouth. Men only became abnormal when faced with something unusual. My sleepiness vanished instantly. While Bruce was taking a shower, I checked his phone. Two pieces of messages—no inappropriate chat records there. I checked the navigation history and paypal transfers—everything was clean, with no signs of wrongdoing. After all that, I couldn’t help but marvel at how paranoid I’d been for suspecting Bruce. “Your Bruce is so pure and simple that even if the most beauty came, he wouldn’t even bat an eyelid. You can rest assured!” I recalled my friends’ jokes and smiled. Just as I was about to put his phone down, a notification popped up from a women’s app. It was a period reminder. I was stunned for a moment, thinking that Bruce, who was always meticulous, might have paid attention to these things. I opened the app, but there were only two months of records. And those weren't my menstrual cycle dates. So whose records were these?