Chapter 3

On the way back, I called a top lawyer and explained the situation.

He asked me.

"Mr. Gonzalez, I understand the situation. How would you like to proceed?"

"I want her to leave with nothing. Not a single penny. That's the baseline."

"Evidence is key."

That night I contacted the best private investigation team in the city. Money wasn't an issue—the issue was speed and accuracy.

Three days later, a file folder landed on my office desk.

The photos were comprehensive: intertwined figures in gym corners, kissing profiles in underground parking garages, even records of them entering and leaving hotels.

Turns out they were college sweethearts who broke up after graduation and married other people.

Who knew that after Rachel married me, she'd run into him again at this very gym.

The investigation report stated: Scott, unmarried fitness trainer, specializing in servicing high-end female clients. Rachel contacted him on the third day after giving birth and met him for the first time on the fifth day.

I laughed coldly. The baby was still nursing, and she was already in another man's bed.

Of course, the child wasn't mine either.

That evening, Rachel came home with an abnormal flush on her face, satisfaction written in the corners of her eyes and brows.

I could tell at a glance—that was what she looked like after having sex with someone else. But I had no interest in exposing her yet.

She used to give me a hug every time she came home. Back then, I felt sweetness in my heart.

Now as she opened her arms to rush toward me, I stepped aside and casually picked up a cup from the coffee table.

She froze for a moment and asked.

"Gonzalez, you didn't come to the gym looking for me today, did you?"

"No."

I lowered my head to drink water, my voice calm.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Nothing, I was just worried you missed me too much."

She headed toward the bedroom.

"I'm going to nurse the baby. Oh, by the way, there's a college reunion tomorrow. Will you come with me?"

I looked up at her expectant eyes. Only one thought crossed my mind: I'll play along.

"Sure, let's go together."

The next evening, Rachel fussed in front of the mirror for two hours.

She wore a tight dress, put on elaborate makeup, and changed her jewelry several times.

I leaned against the doorframe watching her, remembering how in all our years of marriage, she never dressed up when going out with me. She was always bare-faced.

Turns out it wasn't that she didn't care about beauty—I just wasn't worth beautifying herself for.

"Let's go."

She picked up her bag and took my arm.

The reunion was at an upscale restaurant downtown. The private room was large, with a round table seating a dozen or so people.

The moment I walked in, I saw the person sitting in the seat of honor—Scott.

Today he was dressed up in a shirt, looking presentable as he chatted and laughed with the people next to him.

When he saw us enter, his eyes swept over me, then landed on Rachel's face with a smile.

I understood instantly. Sneaking around behind people's backs wasn't enough—they wanted to use this reunion to humiliate me in front of everyone.

Rachel let go of my arm and practically skipped over, plopping down in the empty seat next to Scott.

I moved to sit beside her, but just as I took a step, Scott raised his hand to stop me.

"Sorry about this, Gonzalez, but this seat's reserved."

He deliberately put on an apologetic expression and pointed to the last seat.

"You sit over there. The view's better from that end."

The room fell silent for a moment. Someone started snickering.

Rachel kept her head down, fiddling with her phone, pretending not to hear.

I looked at that last seat, then at this cheating couple, and then I smiled too.

"Fine, no problem. A seat's a seat."

I walked to the last seat, sat down, and poured myself some tea. Alright then, let's play this game.