Chapter 4

As I grapple with how to break the news of divorce to my parents, my eyes suddenly catch sight of a medicine box under the coffee table.

"Whose is this?"

I jump to my feet, startling Isadora into loud wails.

Dad snatches it away, hiding it behind his back.

"Don't make a fuss."

"Sweetie, your father's getting on in years. He's bound to have a few health issues. A quick trip to the doctor for some meds will sort him out."

He clearly doesn't want to elaborate.

It's not until we're about to leave that Mom pulls me aside. After making sure Dad isn't paying attention, she whispers:

"The doctor says your father has a heart condition. He can't handle any shocks."

"Ah, but it's nothing to worry about."

"You and Dashiell are doing so well together. That puts our minds at ease."

My heart feels like it's in a vice grip. The word "divorce" dances on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it back bitterly.

Dashiell returns home three days later.

Spotting our daughter in her stroller, he rushes over excitedly to play with her. "Hey, baby girl! Did you miss Daddy while I was gone?"

Our daughter sucks on her thumb.

He then hands me a few boxes of local treats, smiling warmly. "Darling, I brought you those pear blossom cookies you used to love."

"Surprised?"Perhaps out of guilt, he didn't dare look me in the eye, and naturally failed to notice my cold gaze. He talked to himself about today being our third wedding anniversary.

"This is perfect, both our big baby and little baby are at home."

"Wait till I'm off work. We'll celebrate our third wedding anniversary in grand style this year."

I felt a bit dazed, my mother's words echoing in my mind.

Putting the affair aside, in others' eyes, Dashiell could be considered a good husband.

He was generous with money for me and doted on our daughter.

After work, he often declined invitations to drink, just to come home and be with his darling and child.

What if I pretended to be oblivious?

I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart in agony.

The living room felt like a dividing line.

Dashiell was elated, while I felt like I was serving a life sentence.

I decided to give it a try.

That night, I prepared a table full of delicious dishes. Our daughter, exhausted, had already gone to bed.

Dashiell still wasn't home.

As for where he went, I knew all too well.

Originally, he had planned to come straight home after work, even arguing with Melody about it.

In the chaos, his phone got smashed.

Dashiell wanted to explode in anger, but Melody cried out: "Today is the anniversary of my mother's death, Dashiell. Please, have some pity on me and stay, won't you?"Dashiell lost his father at a young age.

Hearing Melody's words, his heart completely softened.

Turning off the dashcam footage,

I sat in the living room, the last glimmer of hope in my heart completely extinguished.

The clock struck midnight, and I looked up at our wedding photo hanging on the wall, then opened the drawer where the divorce papers lay glaringly visible.

After a long while, I made a few perfunctory phone calls.

Naturally, no one answered.

So I dialed 911, my face grim but my voice filled with urgency, even pleading with a tearful tone: "My husband is missing, can you please help me?"

At 1 AM, everyone was bleary-eyed.

The police officer typed away, registering the report, while I helplessly scrolled through my call history.

Until Dashiell's subordinate arrived.

He was a chubby young man, looking quite amiable.

But I knew very well that the fact Dashiell's affair hadn't been discovered by anyone, including me, was largely thanks to this subordinate's cover-ups.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed he was drenched in cold sweat.

He must have made countless calls behind the scenes.

Calls to Dashiell went unanswered.

Calls to Melody showed her phone was switched off.

The subordinate sat restlessly.

Despite the cool weather, sweat had soaked through the back of his shirt.I suppressed the mockery at the corners of my mouth and poured him a glass of warm water, gently pushing it towards him.

"Thank you for your trouble."

The subordinate was so guilt-ridden he didn't dare lift his head, squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

After searching for a while, the police finally confirmed that Dashiell was at the company.

I called over a few female coworkers.

They were the ones I got along with best during team building dinners.

Now hearing that I needed help, they naturally extended a hand without hesitation.

The lights were on in the top floor office, with faint moans coming through.

Everyone suddenly realized something, looking at me with sympathy in their eyes.

I quietly clenched my fist, still feigning a look of confusion.

Until the police pushed open the glass door.

"Ah!"

Melody was barely clothed, quickly hiding under the computer desk.

I vaguely recognized the lace lingerie she was wearing - it was the set bought the day before Valentine's Day.