A Distraction Leads to an Accident

"My mother!" George replied too quickly, sparking a fierce anger within me.

Suddenly, our daughter cried out. In his panic, George thrust the towel into my hands and hurried to her room, dodging my continued questioning.

Holding the towel, I pondered his lie—it couldn't have been his mother. I returned to the bathroom and dialed his mother to confirm my suspicion; she hadn't called.

Leaning against the bathroom wall, I felt a sense of helplessness.

George reappeared, carrying our daughter who had been awakened by a full bladder. Still groggy from sleep and not fully opening her eyes, she likely drank too much at dinner.

Suddenly, George's phone rang again in the cramped bathroom, the loud ringtone startling him. In his haste, he let go of Angel to reach for his phone.

Angel fell, hitting the toilet before tumbling onto the wet floor, crying out in heart-wrenching pain.

I rushed over, and as George stood frozen, I picked up our daughter. Her lips had hit the hard floor tiles and were bleeding.

"George..." I screamed in fury, glaring at the still flustered George, and carried Angel out of the bathroom.

She cried breathlessly, blood streaming from her lips. Frantically sitting on the sofa, I pulled out tissues to dab at the blood, my heart aching unbearably.

The phone continued to ring. George, perhaps shocked by the incident or pained by his own mishap, followed us out. He looked at the distressing sight of our daughter's bloodied lips, his face a mix of regret and panic, trying to comfort her.

Trembling, I carefully pressed a tissue against the corner of her mouth, continuously kissing her forehead, reassuring her not to be afraid.

An unprecedented pain swept through me. I had never expected that the man I saw as the perfect husband and father could be so distracted by another woman that he neglected his own daughter. She was so young, yet she was suffering because of our failing marriage.

I roared, unable to contain my anger, "Answer it! I want to see who is on the phone that makes you so neglectful... Answer it!"

He frantically ended the call.

I held Angel tightly as she cried herself nearly breathless, her pretty little face flushed red. She hadn't even fully woken from her nap before suffering this ordeal, still recovering from the shock of a recent fall from a slide.

I regretted letting him take care of her, the pain in my heart driving me to lose my senses.

"Don't cry, darling! Mommy is so sorry, baby..." I couldn't hold back my tears, crying along with my child whose lips were now swelling.

"Honey, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry..." George stammered helplessly.

I glared at George, "Are you even human? Ah? George, check your conscience—are you still a man? Do you think you deserve to be a father? Tell me... whose call was it? Why didn't you answer?"

I yelled at the top of my lungs.

George appeared uneasy, standing there as I fiercely interrogated him, his face showing a pained expression, though his voice remained weak, "I... Grace, it's not what you think, it wasn't an important call, you have to believe me, I would never do anything to hurt you!"

"Grace, can you stop being so paranoid? It's just that you've been so edgy lately, walking on eggshells around you, afraid of upsetting you... that's why..."

"Whose call was it?" I cut off his rambling, demanding an answer.

George swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, eyes shifting away, the corners of his mouth twitching as he avoided my gaze.

"It was... Sam's call. He wantedme to provide cover for him; he's got a woman on the side, and his wife is onto him. I was avoiding you because I feared you'd overthink it. I couldn't discuss this in front of you without seeming complicit in his deceit, which I know you despise," he said, his voice earnest yet tinged with a convincing sincerity, his face a picture of contrite innocence.

Looking at him, I felt utterly despairing. Even now, he continued to lie, his deceit making me shiver with rage.

Just then, his phone began to ring again relentlessly…

Both of us were startled; George's eyes suddenly tightened, while mine became increasingly piercing. I stared at him unyieldingly and said without doubt, "Answer it!"

George's body stiffened, rooted to the spot.

"George, if you have any conscience left, answer this call in front of me. I'm giving you one more chance!" I said firmly, holding our crying child close and standing tall. "I used to believe that even if every man in the world could betray, my George wouldn't. You have disappointed me."

I finally voiced the sentiment I had been dreading to face, never imagining that betrayal could enter our relationship.

As the words left my mouth, tears streamed down my face, mingling with the child's loud sobs, crafting a tableau of endless sorrow and heartbreak.

Under my coercion, George slowly took out his phone. The ringtone sounded even sharper and more discordant against the tense atmosphere.

I watched George as he stood there, bewildered, slowly clenching his hand. I clenched my jaw and commanded unequivocally, "Answer it!"

George picked up the phone, glanced at the screen, and said, "It's Fiona!"

"Answer it!" No matter who it was, I was not prepared to give him any further chances.