3#03

3

The following morning, I arose earlier than usual.

Surveying the bedroom, I noticed that Troy had selected nearly everything in it.

Except for a few articles of clothing I possessed, unchanged for three years, there was nothing substantial to take with me.

I nonchalantly packed some clothes into a bag when the airline rang, "Good day, is this Ms. Felicia Hoffman? We regret to inform you that due to an unprecedented storm, your flight has been postponed for three days. Is this acceptable to you?"

I peered out at the torrential downpour and exhaled. What rotten luck, it seems even nature is conspiring against my departure.

I phoned my aide, Charlie, and said, "Let's reschedule for three days later. Be punctual when collecting me at the airport." As I ended the call, I detected a presence behind me.

Troy, with a furrowed brow, inquired, "What's your destination? Felicia, who were you speaking with? Who's meeting you at the airport?"

He had been passing by but grew inquisitive enough to approach and demand explanations.

He was aware I had no relatives in this city. Not a single acquaintance.

Throughout our six-year marriage, I had forsaken my personal life for his enterprise. After aiding its expansion, I willingly stepped back to concentrate on conceiving through IVF.

To exist this way for love ... Reflecting on it now, I was utterly foolish.

I offered a faint smile, "It's nothing significant. I booked a group tour, but the inclement weather caused a delay, so it's been called off."

He scrutinized me intently, attempting to detect any falsehood. Finding no suspicious signs in my demeanor, he relaxed and approached gradually.

"Felicia, once we have our child, how about a month-long family holiday in Bali?" His tone mellowed, and he extended his hand as if to gently touch my abdomen.

I subtly moved away, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water, and replied, "We can discuss that later."

I checked the time. Typically, he would have departed for work by now, but today he lingered unusually long.

Detecting the indifference in my voice, his forehead creased, "Didn't you always dream of visiting Bali?"

I had once desired that, wished to explore its romantic allure with my beloved. But now, that desire had vanished.

Moreover, I could travel anywhere alone. Before I could respond, the sound of a key turning in the lock interrupted us.

Startled, I looked towards the entrance to see Louise, his secretary, standing there in revealing attire, smiling sweetly at us, "Felicia, pardon the intrusion. I noticed Mr. Angelo was running late, so I came to escort him. You don't mind, do you?"

My gaze fell on the key in her grasp. It was the sole spare key to our residence.

I questioned him, "Troy, you provided her with the key?"

A flicker of discomfort crossed his face as he casually explained, "Louise is my secretary. Previously, I left some papers at home and it was inconvenient for her to retrieve them, so I gave her a key. It's not significant, Felicia. We'll discuss this when I return."

He exchanged a glance with Louise, and they departed one after the other.

I laughed bitterly to myself. I once believed his interest in her was merely a passing attraction to her youth and beauty. But now, it seemed his intentions were serious.

Later that afternoon, while enjoying coffee, I received a call from a lawyer friend.

He informed me that the divorce agreement was prepared and had been emailed for my review. "Everything appears satisfactory. Thank you." I quickly perused it, "Once I'm back in Chicago, dinner's on me."

His laughter resonated through the phone, "I appreciate it in advance, Miss Hoffman. Felicia, congratulations on your impending freedom. Return soon."

A warm sensation bloomed in my chest. Sebastian Curtis had been my closest companion since childhood. Six years ago, when I chose to stay in Houston for love, he had been the first to object.

He had said, "Troy might be attractive, but you two are incompatible. Don't be foolish enough to marry him!"

And, "That guy's face screams infidelity. Don't be naive!"

But a woman in love is far from logical. I thought all men might stray, but not my Troy.

He might have been poor, but he was diligent and ambitious. With a little assistance, he could manage his business well.

Above all, I couldn't forget the look of profound affection in his eyes when he professed his love beneath the cherry blossom tree. But now, that memory was fading.

When I thought of Troy, my first impression was his impatience. Constantly defending his secretary's behavior and berating me relentlessly.

Sensing something amiss, I moved to the panoramic window. In the relentless rain, his vehicle remained parked below.

Despite the poor visibility, I could clearly discern two figures inside, locked in a passionate embrace. Troy, I truly misjudged you.