Something felt off, but before I could dig deeper, the shower stopped. I hastily locked the phone and returned it, feeling like the guilty party.
York, freshly dressed, joined me at the table, pouring wine.
"Happy fifth anniversary, darling!"
I clinked glasses, feigning composure. "York, will you always love me like this?"
He met my gaze. "Of course, sweetheart!"
"You won't get bored of me someday and... cheat?"
He chuckled. "What nonsense! With you in my life, no one else could catch my eye. Never have, never will."
Despite the bloodshot eyes, his gaze was as clear as ever, betraying nothing.
His calm demeanor only twisted the knife in my heart. How could he lie so effortlessly?
I couldn't bring myself to confront him about the message. Am I afraid of the truth, or hoping it is all a misunderstanding due to lack of concrete evidence?
Exhausted, York didn't notice my unease. He was soon fast asleep.
As his steady breathing filled the darkness, my tears flowed freely.
My heart felt hollow. We love each other so much. How could this happen?
Sweet memories flickered and shattered before my eyes. My husband lay inches away yet felt lost to me.
After tossing and turning for hours, I made a silent vow: I would find out who this woman was.
A few days flew by, and I finally got my chance.
After several days of normal routines, York told me once again that he had to work late. In the past, I would have thought nothing of it—it was just work. But since I had seen his phone, I couldn’t shake the feeling that these late nights were becoming something else entirely.
So, one evening, I hired a car and waited outside York’s office building.
As expected, right after quitting time, his car pulled out of the underground garage, almost as if he was racing against the clock.
My heart ached again. I instructed the driver to follow him.
Fifteen minutes later, his car stopped in front of a nondescript hotel. York hurried inside, practically running.
I was consumed by curiosity. Who is this woman, the one who makes him rush out of work so eagerly?
With a sympathetic glance from the driver, I paid and got out. By the time I made it inside, York was nowhere to be seen.
I approached the hotel front desk, steeling myself to ask the young receptionist which room the man in the gray coat had gone to.