Chapter 17

Emily had been thoroughly tossed about, and by the end, Michael hadn't withdrawn yet. Just as he leaned down to kiss her, he noticed she had already drifted off to sleep.

Michael took a tissue to clean them both up and stared at Emily for a while, feeling a touch of weariness. With his long arms, he gently embraced her as his eyelids drooped.

When he opened his eyes again, an hour had passed. Emily still slept beside him, her peaceful face and gentle breath contrasting with the shallow sleep of the night before; she was now sleeping deeply.

It was then that Michael remembered his phone, which he had stuffed under the pillow. There were several missed calls, most from Wang Longdong, with Amanda calling once.

Opening the messages, Wang Longdong had sent a few teasing messages questioning if Michael was too busy to even answer the phone, along with a couple of inquiries about where they should eat tonight: either at a seaside stall or buying seafood to have the hotel chef prepare it.

Amanda had also sent a few voice messages, short in duration. Michael, afraid of waking Emily, listened to the messages with the phone held close to his ear.

Somewhat unexpectedly, Amanda did not express any resentment towards his lack of response. Instead, she was even more solicitous, asking about his well-being and cautioning him to drive carefully and rest more while away from home.

Michael fell silent.

In fact, every time he went away for work before, Amanda would care for him like this. Before he suspected her of cheating, Michael couldn't help but feel moved by these reminders.

The idea of marrying and starting a family had arisen largely from the trust Amanda had placed in him, and he wanted to reciprocate that same trust.

Unfortunately, that trust was now shattered into pieces.

Since two months ago, he had become increasingly suspicious, parsing every word Amanda said, like now, constantly wondering why Amanda was being so attentive to him?

Was it out of years of habit from their relationship?

Was it out of guilt?

Or was it simply to deceive him, to mold the image of a "good girlfriend" and make him more willing to part with his money as her ATM?

The rupture of trust also brought with it fear.

Every night, the person sleeping next to him, whom he thought he understood completely, had overnight become a stranger with unclear intentions.

Many nights, Michael lay awake, his doubts breeding in the darkness. They grew like thorns, piercing his heart and bones, making it impossible for him to sleep.

And these thorns would remain for a long time to come, even after pulling them out, they would leave behind many scars and irregularities.

If he felt this way, what about Emily?

Did she suffer even more than he did?

Thinking of this, he turned his head and glanced at the sleeping woman.

Michael replied to Amanda's message, saying he had been too tired at noon and had just woken up. He then sent her some photos from his last trip to inspect goods—photos of dried fish maw, abalone, and dried scallops—indicating he was diligently "working" and would visit a few fishermen's workshops later.

Finally, he deleted Wang Longdong's teasing messages, leaving only the dinner appointment information, which he screenshotted and sent to Amanda, preemptively informing her that he would be meeting an old friend tonight.

It was a classic scoundrel's move, executed with such skill that Michael even disdained himself for it.

As if he were a habitual cheater.

Emily had slept deeply through this period, likely dreaming, though she couldn't remember upon waking.

There was no one beside her; reaching out, she found no lingering warmth under the covers.

The room's curtains were tightly drawn, the room dimly lit with only a small night light under the bed cabinet. She sat up, feeling slightly dizzy, limbs weak, throat dry.

It felt like the aftermath of overexertion.

"Michael...?" Emily called out hoarsely, receiving no response.

Squinting around, she soon spotted her glasses on the bedside cabinet, putting them on. There was a note on the table.

"I went out to dinner with Wang Longdong. You were sleeping so soundly I didn't wake you up. Let me know when you wake up." Michael had written with emphasis, leaving distinct indentations on the back of the paper.

Emily lightly rubbed the paper, feeling a bit reassured.

Her phone was also on the bedside cabinet. Checking it, she saw it was already past eight o'clock. She had slept so long that she felt mentally foggy.

There were six missed calls: one from Anderson, two from Teng Jie, and the remaining three were from Michael's number, which she hadn't saved in her contacts.

The last call had been ten minutes ago.

Emily directly called back Michael, but after ringing for a while, he didn't answer. However, just as the call automatically disconnected, she heard the sound of a room key card being swiped outside the bedroom door.

She jumped in surprise and quickly grabbed the T-shirt at the foot of the bed to put it on. "Who's there?!" she exclaimed.

"It's me, who else?" Michael walked in, hearing her shout as soon as he entered. He answered without much patience, "Was it you who called just now? I had my hands full and couldn't answer the phone."

He placed two bags of takeout on the coffee table. "Come out and eat."

Emily put on her underwear and walked out of the bedroom, surprised. "Didn't you go out to dinner with the hotel owner?"

"Yeah, just finished." Michael replied.

"So fast? I'm so hungry. What did you buy?" Emily asked in amazement.

Michael glanced at her again, not continuing the topic. He took out boxes of food, saying, "I didn't know what you wanted to eat since you didn't answer the phone, so I ordered a variety."

The seafood was abundant and delicious after the fishing ban period: steamed shrimp, boiled razor clams, stir-fried crab meat, and even spotted babylon and clams. The main dish was fragrant fried rice noodles.

The table was filled all at once, and sitting on the sofa made it uncomfortable to bend over, so Emily sat cross-legged on the floor.

Although excited about the food, she lamented, "You ordered too much. I can't finish it all."

"If you can't finish, leave it. I'll eat it later." Michael grabbed his change of clothes and prepared to take a shower.

"Didn't you just eat? Can you still eat?" Emily had already started eating with her chopsticks.

Michael nodded and chuckled, "Just think of me as someone with a growing appetite."

That night, they did it again.

This time, it started very suddenly, without any warning.

After they finished eating, they "reported" to their respective partners and began their "legitimate business": organizing evidence and editing videos.

Emily edited quickly; the video of her husband cheating was almost complete, lacking only subtitles for the audio recordings.

She turned up the volume on her phone to the maximum and listened word by word. In places where the voice was unclear, they listened together repeatedly, adding subtitles to the pitch-black screen.

Even the specific times of the recordings were meticulously marked by Emily.

In the latter part of the audio, Anderson's vulgar language began to appear frequently.

Nowadays, Emily's heart was already cold, holding no hope for Anderson. When she heard these words again, instead of sadness or indignation, she found them laughable.

Michael, wearing the "cuckold" label, looked grim. Soon after, he heard Amanda saying he "couldn't get it up." He gave a cold laugh, "Haha," and Emily quickly comforted him, "It's not true. I can testify for you."

Men, after all, were sensitive about certain things.

Being labeled a cuckold and unable to perform in front of his mistress naturally angered Michael.

The phone screen remained on, and the audio in the editing software continued to play.