Chapter 2

I glanced at the dozen or so photos of us kissing displayed on his desk.

The tears welling up in my eyes, I forced back down.

How could he do this—look at photos of me while messing around with another woman in his office?

And that woman was Hannah?

I didn't lose my temper. Clinging to a thread of hope, I held it in until we got home that night. While he was in the shower, I checked his phone.

"Honey, tomorrow in the office, wear that lolita-style lingerie set I bought you, okay?"

"That depends on whether you can make me climax seven times in one hour."

"No problem. I'll have you crying by the time you get to work. God, it's been over two hours since we left work, and I already miss you so much! The moment I wake up, I need to go to the office and kiss you!"

"What should we do? I'm so in love with you. How about next week we get matching couple tattoos?"

"So bold. Aren't you afraid your wife will find out?"

Even though I'd prepared myself mentally, seeing the actual evidence made all the blood in my body feel like it had frozen solid. My body trembled from the cold.

At that moment, Nathan's phone wallpaper was still our wedding photo.

How ironic.

"Why are you looking at my phone?"

Nathan's face darkened. Without even wrapping a towel around himself, he rushed naked out of the bathroom and snatched the phone away.

"You and Hannah seem pretty close, don't you?"

"Can you not interfere with my freedom? I'm allowed to have friends of the opposite sex."

I smiled bitterly as tears spun uncontrollably in my eyes.

When we were dating, he'd directly added my fingerprint to his phone and said, "Feel free to read my messages anytime. Anyone in my contacts you don't like, delete them."

Five years ago, when he was pursuing me, he sent me a bouquet of roses every single day, saying he wanted to marry me from the moment he first saw me.

Three years ago, when we got married, facing my father's difficult demands—that he marry into our family, that our future children take my father's surname, that he work late into the night every day and become a qualified successor within three years—

he never showed the slightest hesitation or reluctance. Even with a 102-degree fever, he insisted on attending meetings, earning unanimous approval from both old and new company employees.

No matter how late his business dinners ran, he always came home. He never stayed out overnight.

Our dating anniversary, our wedding anniversary, Valentine's Day, my birthday—he never forgot any of them. He always carefully prepared a gift for me.

Everyone said he was the model of a perfect husband.

I didn't understand. If he treated me so well, why would he cheat?

Was it really true that no man could resist cheating?

My heart died. My first thought was divorce.