My Cheating Wife's Secret FamilyChapter 1 The Stranger in the Watch Box
After a week-long business trip, I expected a taxi. Instead, my wife came to pick me up.
Claire Vance—cold, aloof, an ice sculpture of a woman—had actually prepared a surprise.
I stared at the limited-edition, diamond-studded watch in her hand. Said nothing.
"Don't like it?" A flicker of confusion cracked her composed mask.
I didn't answer. Just looked at her.
"Claire." My voice was steady. "You slept with him, didn't you?"
Her expression tightened. She frowned, gaze shifting sideways. "What nonsense are you spouting now?"
I studied her profile, then let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"You're right. He has a clingy child. Joseph can't be left alone for a second. No matter how desperate Colin is, he probably wouldn't stoop low enough to do it in front of the boy."
——
"Ruby!" Her face flushed crimson. "How many times do I have to say it? There is nothing between Colin and me!"
Colin.
The way his name rolled off her tongue sickened me. Too intimate. Six months ago, she'd followed my lead—"Mr. James" or just "the neighbor." Now it slipped out like a lover's whisper.
I sneered and fell silent, letting the heavy atmosphere suffocate the car. The soft, slow melody on the speakers felt jarring against the tension.
I didn't know when it started, but Claire—a woman who used to despise music—had become obsessed with bitter ballads about forbidden love. She shared them on social media every few days. Even changed her ringtone.
What a coincidence. The exact same ringtone Colin used.
Claire started the car, her tone softening. "You know how hard it is for him to raise Joseph alone. We're neighbors. If we can help, we should. Isn't that what you told me back then?"
Yes. I was the one who'd invited the wolf into our home.
Colin was ten years my senior. His face bore the weathering of a difficult life, yet he maintained a facade of plain, gentle humility. In the elevator, he was always carrying heavy grocery bags, that timid, shrinking boy trailing behind him.
Whenever he looked at me, a flash of envy passed through his tired gaze. When our eyes met, he'd offer an embarrassed, self-deprecating smile.
I'd heard he was a single father with a child who had a genetic defect. Life was hard for him. A man like that—harmless, pathetic—would make anyone lower their guard.