"Do you want to go back on your word?" Mrs. Richter rolled her eyes. "You can't change your mind after finishing something."

Mrs. Richter said that I promised last night to maintain a long-term underground relationship with her as her husband.

"Don't worry. I have such a good relationship with Grace and she won't mind."

I was going crazy. What kind of ridiculous plot was this?

The dim yellow light in the cafe created an indescribable ambiguous atmosphere.

I was in a daze, as if being pulled by some force, and failed to reject.

As soon as I got home, Grace crawled on top of me and sniffed, "What's that smell on you?"

I felt nervous and casually made up a lie, "Oh, we had a dinner gathering after the meeting today. Maybe I got other's perfume then."

I dared not look into her eyes. I hurriedly took off my coat and threw it into the washing machine, then rushed into the bathroom as if escaping.

After taking a shower, I was torn and unsure whether I should confess to Grace, "That Mrs. Richter..."

Grace spoke first, "What's wrong with Mrs. Richter? Are you interested in her? Do you need me to play matchmaker for you?"

Listening to her random jokes, I suddenly felt very guilty and didn't know how to speak up.

"Okay, I won't tease you. I'm going out now and there's some late-night snack in the fridge if you want."

After saying that, she left the room.

That night, Grace came back very late and looked radiant.

I smelled a familiar scent of perfume on her.

Ever since that time when I plucked up the courage but failed to confess, I had been in a dilemma.

Mrs. Richter sent me WhatsApp messages every now and then, inviting me to have a coffee at a cafe.

If I refused, she threatened me to tell Grace about our relationship.

I had no choice but to satisfy her.

Fortunately, Mrs. Richter didn't really ask me to do anything outrageous. She just chatted, complained, and occasionally made the occasional off-colour joke.

In this way, I carefully maintained a delicate balance between Grace and Mrs. Richter, feeling anxious every day as if I were walking a tightrope.

One day on the way home from work, I was "intercepted" by Mrs. Richter again.

In the coffee shop, she suddenly leaned over and blew in my ear, "Darling, are you free tomorrow night? Would you like to come to my house?"

When I heard this, I almost jumped out of my chair.