Many envied our relationship and claimed it was rare for a couple in an arranged marriage to remain this enamored.
Ryan supposedly adored me so much that he didn't want children.
But that was just the surface.
In truth, he didn't want children with me.
It didn't hold him back from having one with the other woman.
Ryan rang the next day, inquiring about my birthday.
But he didn't return until three days later.
Hearing him at the door, I stepped out from the sunroom to see Ryan poised in the entryway.
His physique was striking in a crisply tailored suit, his smile polite yet detached.
Now he was worlds apart from the man I'd seen laughing freely on the beach.
"When did you get back? Why didn't you give me a heads-up?"
"If I told you, you'd have come to pick me up. It's chilly out, and you're not feeling well. Better to stay in."
I simply smiled, no reply.
Was he more concerned about my health or about me running into his secret wife and kid?
After a quick change, Ryan presented me with a bracelet.
"Hannah, sorry to miss your birthday. I made this myself, do you like it?"
I took and examined the bracelet.
It was clearly handcrafted with intricately woven shells and pearls.
Money can buy anything these days, but a gift made by hand? That's a true gesture of affection. Ordinarily, I'd be overjoyed.
But my birthday was shadowed by Sherry's video, featuring a market stall filled with similar handcrafted bracelets in the background.
I let him slip the bracelet on my wrist, but as he leaned in for a kiss, I instinctively pulled away.
Caught off guard, he asked, "What's wrong?"
"You've been on a plane all day, go freshen up in the shower." I gently pushed him towards the bathroom.
Seeing his face always brought back images of him and Sherry, intimately close, their affair clearly more than a fleeting mistake.
How else could they have ended up with a child?
While bringing Ryan his milk, he seemed engrossed in his laptop, oblivious to my approach.
"Looking at kids' clothes now?"
I peeked at the screen. There was a young boy modeled two distinct outfits.
Ryan accepted the milk. "A buddy of mine is thinking of launching a kids' line. Just giving it a look. Which do you prefer?"
I studied the photos. "The left one looks sharp, like a tiny gentleman."
He nodded, taking a sip of milk.
I didn't miss the slow smile creeping across his face.