Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As I dried my hair after washing it, I caught sight of my husband, Alex Wilson, in the mirror. He was staring at his phone, struggling to suppress a smile.

The moment I turned around, he set the phone aside, his expression tensing with nervousness. When he realized I didn’t seem to have noticed anything unusual—and that he’d overreacted—he stood up and walked over to me.

“Your hair smells amazing!”

After a hasty compliment, he headed straight for the bathroom.

I played it cool and let him go.

Alex and I had grown up together—we were childhood sweethearts, so close that I could practically read his mind. The way he’d acted just now was a dead giveaway: he was guilty of something, and he must have been hiding a secret from me.

We’d gone from wearing school uniforms together to donning wedding attire; we’d just gotten our marriage certificate last month and told all our relatives and friends that the wedding would be held at the end of next month.

At a time like this, the last thing I wanted was another embarrassment. I swallowed my anger and pretended nothing had happened.

I kept hoping he’d come to his senses and turn over a new leaf.

Once I’d sorted out my thoughts, I went back to preparing for the wedding. When Alex came out of the bathroom, he sat down next to me and picked up his phone again.

From the reflection in his glasses, I could see he was typing. I was about to ask him to help with the wedding preparations when he spoke first.

“Honey, Director Zhao said there’s a problem with the project contract. I need to go there right away. You can go to bed after you’re done—no need to wait up for me. Love you.”

He gave me a perfunctory hug, then left.

I walked over to the window. It was pitch-black outside, and it was already ten o’clock at night. Somehow, he’d changed his clothes somewhere before getting in the car and driving off.

After thinking for a moment, I called one of his colleagues.

“Tom Clark, are you busy right now?”

“I just finished dinner. Is there something you need, Sister-in-law?”

I briefly explained the situation, and his tone instantly shifted.

“Oh right! I just finished dinner too and was about to head over there myself!”

Then he hurried to end the call.

As I listened to the beeping sound of the disconnected call, the last sliver of hope in my heart vanished.

What on earth was so important that he’d started lying to me?

On the surface, I acted as usual, but behind the scenes, I began keeping a close eye on him.

Gradually, he claimed to be working overtime more and more frequently, and his business trips became more frequent too—every day, he seemed swamped with work.

Later, he even suggested we sleep in separate rooms, saying he didn’t want to disturb my rest.

His actions shattered any illusions I still had. It was obvious he was probably having an affair, but I had no proof.

All I could do was pretend I knew nothing and keep playing along with his act.

It was true that his work had gotten busier, and the contract he kept mentioning did require constant follow-up. In the past, I would have worried about him overworking himself and taken care of everything at home.

But this time, the more he avoided his responsibilities at home, the more I insisted on asking him for help.

Today was the day we’d scheduled to pick out our wedding photos. He told me I could choose them on my own, but I insisted firmly that he come with me.

He agreed readily and even said he’d come home to pick me up.

He was such a good actor that even though I suspected him, I still found myself thinking he loved me. But illusions are always just illusions.

When he arrived downstairs, he even went out of his way to come up and get me, then held the car door open for me when we reached the vehicle.

As soon as the door opened, a strong smell of air freshener hit me—mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke and another indescribable odor.

I got into the passenger seat and subtly adjusted the seat position without a word.

He even leaned over to fasten my seatbelt. A strange scent of perfume from his clothes stabbed at my nose, and I was seized by an urge to strangle him.

I picked up his phone from the seat, typed in my birthday—my usual passcode for his phone—and unlocked it. I flipped through it casually.

If he hadn’t been tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel the whole time, I might have actually believed I was wrong about him.

It wasn’t just men who knew about private phone vaults, but he’d been arrogant enough to think I’d never find out.

In the end, it was me who ended up heartbroken.

On the day we got our marriage certificate, Alex got down on one knee and said he would take care of me, asking me to be a stay-at-home wife.

At the time, he had an annual salary of a million yuan, so he really did have the means to support our family. I’d been swayed by his words and planned to start trying for a baby after the wedding, so I agreed.

After I quit my job, I threw myself into preparing for our wedding. He treated me even better than before, and I felt incredibly happy, grateful that I’d found such a wonderful man.

Now, I was almost grateful that he’d made me a stay-at-home wife—it gave me plenty of time to investigate what he was up to.

That morning, he kissed my forehead as usual and left.

His movements were stiff, and just the thought of it made me feel sick.

The second he stepped out the door, the smile on my face disappeared. Unconsciously, I scrubbed my forehead hard until it turned red before I even realized what I was doing.

I hurried to follow him out, hailed a taxi, and had the driver tail him.

When the driver heard I was trying to catch my husband cheating, he followed even more closely.

Before long, we arrived at a villa community. I told the driver to let me off, then went to a bar across the street, picked a window seat, and kept my eyes on the villa complex.

He’d said he was going on a business trip for the next two days—who would’ve thought his “business trip” was to a villa? It was ridiculous.

Less than half an hour later, he drove out of the complex. I recognized the woman in the passenger seat at a glance.

It was utterly absurd.

Her name was Emily Davis. She’d originally been an intern under Alex. For some reason, she’d been pestering him constantly, and Alex had often complained to me about her, even showing me the ambiguous messages she’d sent him.

Back then, he’d looked completely annoyed by her—but that didn’t stop him from being all lovey-dovey with her now.

I hailed another taxi and followed them. I watched as Emily took Alex’s arm, and they went to eat hot pot and 逛 the mall, acting like teenage sweethearts. Alex doted on her, taking care of her every need.

More than once, I wanted to rush up to him and see if he’d feel even a shred of guilt when I exposed him.

But I held back. I found the right angle and took photos of them being affectionate.

Still, I couldn’t bear the thought of letting them enjoy their happiness in peace, so I called him.

He took out his phone, stopped in his tracks, and glanced at Emily.

Emily immediately knew who was calling and took a step back.

Alex hung up on me right away, pulled Emily into his arms, and kissed her.

Then the two of them continued walking, laughing and talking happily.

A little while later, my phone pinged with a message from him.

“I was in a meeting just now. I’ll call you back when I’m free. Be good.”

I looked at the love hotel they’d walked into and laughed bitterly.

Every one of his actions felt like a slap to my face. Sorrow, resentment, and unwillingness welled up inside me, and I was too scared to go in after them.

But I couldn’t back down now. I followed them in and booked a room right next to theirs.

Either the hotel’s soundproofing was terrible, or they were being extremely loud—every sound of their intimacy drifted clearly into my room, piercing my heart.

I stood frozen, holding my phone as I listened. Through Emily’s moans, I could hear her calling Alex’s name, cooing “Brother” to him.

Unconsciously, I bit my lip so hard it bleed. The metallic taste of blood mixed with my saliva and slid down my throat.

I don’t know how long it took before the noise next door died down.

I checked out first and waited at a nearby convenience store.

About an hour later, they came out, and I continued following them.

I felt like an outsider as I watched them meet up with friends, chatting, laughing, and drinking together.

When Alex went to pay the bill, Emily looked directly in my direction and smiled—a smile that meant nothing good.