Chapter 3

Near East Station, the traffic was heavy. Michael gripped the steering wheel, disregarding solid and dashed lines, deftly weaving left and right to close the gap with the target vehicle. Yet, inevitably, they hit a red light.

The car halted, and Michael glanced sideways at Emily's profile.

This meeting with Emily was only the fourth time, but Michael felt as if they had known each other for ages.

—It's a strange feeling indeed. In his younger days, he often used "haven't we met somewhere before?" as an icebreaker, but those were days of innocence. Now at thirty-two, such cheesy lines naturally stayed unsaid.

Emily was still without makeup today, yet her skin was flawless, not a pore in sight. Perhaps due to her hurried walk, her cheeks bore a slight blush, and sweat glistened on her nose.

From her temples down to her jaw, sweat dampened a few strands of her dark hair, pulled back into a ponytail, revealing her neck. The sweat clung to her flushed skin, glistening like fish scales.

The Toyota was rented; there was only one car, and Michael didn't have the habit of carrying tissues. He called out to Emily, "Hey," gesturing towards his neck, "you better use these tissues to wipe off the sweat from your neck... It's covered in sweat... It's not that hot today, so why so much sweat?"

Emily didn't take out tissues from her backpack. Instead, she casually wiped her neck with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on her phone. She admitted, "Maybe I'm just nervous; my heart is beating so fast right now."

Just as she finished speaking, she seemed to have difficulty breathing.

Placing her palm over her left chest, she tilted her head back, took a deep breath, and finally muttered with furrowed brows, "It feels so uncomfortable."

A heart marinated in tears for forty to fifty days and nights couldn't dry out instantly, even with a resolved mind.

Turning her face towards Michael, locking eyes, she asked seriously, "And you? Will you manage? Today, there's more than just me out to catch them. Aren't you upset?"

His throat tightened, and Michael didn't know that he too, like her, had furrowed his brows.

He didn't know how to respond to this question.

He seemed really not that upset anymore about wearing the "green hat."

Was he too indifferent?

"Although your situation with Miss Amanda is different, you and her are not yet married..."

Before Michael could respond, Emily didn't mind and answered for him, "But you've been seriously dating for a few years now, and you were about to propose. How could your feelings not be genuine? You must also be upset."

Her voice sounded soft, like a white steamed bun that could be squeezed and flattened, yet her tone was firm. Biting into it would burn the tip of your tongue.

Michael remained silent for a few seconds before saying, "Yes, you're right. I'm upset too."

As the traffic light turned green, he left his left hand on the steering wheel, reaching over to grab the bright phone from Emily's hand.

Glancing at the map, he placed it horizontally in the dashboard slot.

Emily wanted to retrieve her phone, but Michael stepped on the gas pedal hard, pushing the Toyota forward with a surge of acceleration.

As the car moved ahead, Emily heard him say, "Don't worry, the road god is here. I'll make sure you catch up to them."

Emily froze for a moment, waiting to understand his self-proclaimed title, then burst out laughing, "What's this? Couldn't you at least claim to be something like the 'Roman Charioteer'?"

In the corner of her eye, she finally saw a faint smile on her lips, and Michael unknowingly relaxed his thick brows.

He shamelessly followed up, "My friends praise me like that, but I'm a modest person and never seek such empty fame."

Amused by him, Emily teased, "Then, Mr. 'Road God,' I'll trouble you."

Michael chuckled, "No problem, buckle up."

The fact that he, alongside his girlfriend's mistress's wife, was sitting in the same car and going to catch them—Michael, who had been playful for many years, couldn't have imagined such a plot.

It was absurd, yet undeniably happening.

Where did things veer off course? Michael couldn't quite recall.

His girlfriend was named Amanda Smith, six years younger than him and currently pursuing her master's degree.

Amanda and Michael were both natives of Eldoria. Michael's mother and Amanda's mother had been friends for many years, so he had known Amanda since childhood. But due to their age difference, Michael didn't pay much attention to the young girl with a childish face until she graduated from college, and he realized how much she had changed.

With affection from him and interest from her, coupled with their families' relationship, Michael earnestly pursued her. After some time, they started dating, which had now extended to three or four years.

Rewind six months ago.

With family urging the young couple to settle down, Michael began planning the proposal after the New Year.

After all, they were practically living together; he couldn't keep the girl hanging.

However, just as he was choosing the engagement ring, Michael noticed something unusual about Amanda.

His girlfriend started keeping her phone close and her whereabouts became elusive. Michael occasionally caught her smiling at her phone, which made him uncomfortable, so he casually tested the waters.

To his surprise, Amanda calmly handed him her phone, saying it was just chatting with her girlfriends. She gave him free rein to check her WeChat and Email.