Chapter 1

After giving birth to our daughter, my husband and I didn't sleep together for over a year.

He was considerate of the pain I endured during childbirth, and no matter how busy he was, he would always take initiative to care for our daughter.

He even claimed he wanted to get a vasectomy.

Until I accidentally saw his chat with his secretary.

The girl sent revealing selfies, her voice coy: "You're not spending Valentine's Day with me, don't tell me you're with her..."

My husband replied: "You know, after being there for the birth, I just find her down there disgusting."

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The girl's lacy lingerie, I've seen it before.

Yesterday, I collected a package for Dashiell.

When I saw it, for a moment, I felt elated.

Over the past year, even though we hadn't been intimate, Dashiell still remembered my size.

To avoid spoiling the surprise, I deliberately kept quiet.

It turns out, I was foolishly getting my hopes up.

The gift wasn't meant for me, but for a more vibrant, more alluring body.

I clicked into the girl's social media profile.

Her latest update was a photo of her bare, beautiful legs.

The photographer's hand reached out, gently gripping the girl's ankle.

I recognized it as Dashiell's hand.

Knuckles pronounced, fingers long, exuding an air of restraint.

The girl's caption read: "Goodness, I'm exhausted."

Only Dashiell had liked it.

Apparently, this post was set to be visible only to the two of them.

I scrolled further down.

The girl frequently posted updates flaunting her lifestyle.

Dashiell's hand appeared in all the photos.

Sometimes holding the girl's hand on a sun-drenched beach.

Other times extending a black credit card at a shopping mall.

Or a blurry figure reflected in a hotel's full-length mirror.

...

Without exception.I gripped my palm so tightly I nearly drew blood, barely holding back tears.

After a moment of stunned silence, I fumbled for my phone, my trembling hands barely able to hold it steady.

I opened the camera app, forcing myself to remain calm as I began recording.

The girl's social media posts, all related to Dashiell, went back an entire year.

It was Valentine's Day then too.

I had left our daughter with the nanny, made dinner reservations, and carefully applied light makeup.

All that was left was for Dashiell to get off work so we could enjoy a long-overdue date night.

But I waited until late into the night without hearing a word from him.

As people around me came and went, my heart grew increasingly desolate.

The next day, Dashiell claimed he'd been working overtime and gave me an expensive necklace.

But the girl's social media clearly showed otherwise.

She wrote: "This passionate affair, I want to see it through to the end."

With shaking hands, I recorded all the posts and chat logs I could find.

Then I opened Dashiell's shopping app.

I discovered he was quite "faithful" - always buying the same brand of contraceptives and booking the same hotel.

The recipient's name wasn't Dashiell, but Melody.

I clutched my chest, laughing bitterly to myself: "I guess he's consistent in his infidelity too."

I continued methodically recording everything.

A noise came from the bathroom.I immediately locked the screen and put the phone back in its original place.

Dashiell was wrapped in only a towel.

I examined him closely, feeling somewhat dazed.

God was unfair. At thirty, Dashiell hadn't aged with the passing of time. His rich experiences had only added to his charm.

Water droplets dripped onto the floor.

It wasn't until he walked up to me, the fresh scent of mint filling my nostrils, that I suddenly snapped back to reality.

"Darling, I'm sorry," he apologized first.

I was taken aback.

But he explained, "I've been so busy with overtime work lately, I didn't even buy you a Valentine's Day gift."

I recalled the messages in the chat window and inwardly sneered.

But I didn't expose his lie.

To comfort me, he embraced me and even kissed me passionately.

However, at the final step, he suddenly stopped.

He turned on the light.

The bright light made it difficult for me to open my eyes.

He frustratedly ran his fingers through his hair.

"Darling, I forgot again. Can we wait until after I've had the vasectomy to be intimate?"

I looked at him intently and tentatively said,

"Actually, it's okay."

"I've also mentioned to you that I'd like to have a second child."

Dashiell rolled out of bed, seemingly intending to take another cold shower in the bathroom.

Hearing my words, he firmly shook his head."Don't want a second child, just want Isadora alone."

"Darling, I'm willing to remain chaste, mainly because I can't bear to see you go through the pain of childbirth for me again."