Chapter 3

After sitting with my mom through lunch, I made a trip back to the house.

The smart lock beeped, and as I pulled the door open, the sound of a violin drifted toward me.

I knew the melody all too well—it was Aria's absolute favorite piece.

God knows where she'd found the recording, but I had never been able to find anything similar online.

Whenever I asked her what the piece was called, she'd give me a cryptic, evasive answer: "It sounds like love."

Even though she took up the violin after we got married, she had never played a single piece just for me.

Every time I brought it up, asking if she'd play something, she'd always make up some excuse to brush me off.

Hearing it now as the melody neared its end, my heart was in a completely different place.

The piece really did sound like love.

It started smooth and lingering, building up to a crescendo that shook you to the core.

Yet near the end, it felt as though the composer had rushed to finish it, cutting off abruptly at an awkward, forgettable note.

The song ended. Aria lowered the violin from her shoulder and suddenly looked toward the corner, smiling.

It was a genuine, radiant smile—something I hadn't seen on her face in years.

A sharp, throbbing ache suddenly pulsed through my temples.

A second later, Aria took two quick steps and jogged straight into someone's waiting arms.

I shifted my footing slightly, getting a clear view.

It was Julian, the violin instructor I had hired for her.

The two of them couldn't wait, immediately locking lips in a feverish, breathless embrace, totally oblivious to my presence.

Parting for air, they whispered in hushed, intimate tones:

"Aria, you're so cruel. You won't even keep our baby."

"You're the greedy one. Haven't I belonged to you since the day I turned eighteen? Who else do you want? I get jealous of our own kid, you know."

Julian let out a low chuckle. "The violin you play is for my ears only."

Their eyes locked, and they crashed together again in another desperate kiss.

It felt like someone had shoved a filthy, soaked rag down my throat. Nausea and cold sweat washed over me instantly.

My mind snapped back to the day I first met Julian. Aria had introduced him, insisting on hiring him as her tutor.

Back then, before I could even ask him anything, Aria had hurriedly covered her tracks:

"We're from the same hometown. It's just easier to connect with someone from the same background."

She had been so terrified I would say no.

The awkward looks they had exchanged back then hadn't been awkwardness at all—they were just trying to hide their secret.

I stood there like a statue, mechanically glancing down at my right hand, which was holding my phone up, recording.

I had started filming instinctively when she began playing.

Instead, I had captured their dirty secret in full, HD detail.

Ridiculous. Pathetic.

Yet, strangely, something worth celebrating.

My face hardened. I put away the phone, turned around, and slammed the front door shut, making it sound like I had just walked in.

Stepping into the living room, the two who had just been wrapped around each other were now standing on opposite sides of the room.

Real smooth.