Chapter 3

When I got home, Hunter stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a tailored suit.

He held an Italian handcrafted comb, meticulously smoothing back the hair at his temples.

The sharp, slicked-back style enhanced his handsome, chiseled features.

"I have a work dinner tonight," he said without looking up.

Then, he pulled out his phone, a smile playing on his lips, and walked out the door.

That smile was identical to the one in Scarlett’s latest photos.

Carefree, tender, with an undeniable doting affection in his eyes and the curve of his mouth.

I remembered three years ago, he’d smiled at me that exact same way.

On a snowy street, he’d wrapped my trembling shoulders in a thick coat.

Then he’d wound a scarf around my neck, layer after layer, and said with a smile,

"See? This way, my little painter won't freeze into a snowman."

But now, he warmed someone else's winter with that same smile.

The starlight in his eyes no longer belonged to me.

I knew he was going to see Scarlett again.

Ever since Scarlett appeared, he’d often come home late or left early.

I felt insecure, trying every way to hold onto him.

But in the end, all I got was his exasperated, "Can you stop being so annoying?"

That evening, on a whim, I opened my social media.

I saw a photo Scarlett had posted.

Hunter stood beside her.

They both held the same bottle of champagne, smiling brightly in front of a giant champagne tower.

The caption read: "Wherever you are, it's always brilliant."

Below it was Hunter’s heart emoji.

"It's never lonely with you around."

Once, I would have cried hysterically, then screamed and demanded answers like a madwoman.

"Who exactly is your wife? Have you ever considered my feelings?"

But now, I quietly closed my phone and slept until dawn.

In the early hours, I was jolted awake by a violent slamming door. Hunter, reeking of alcohol, ripped the covers off me.

"I said I had a work dinner, but I didn't say I wouldn't eat anything, did I?!"

"Audrey, are you so heartless and uncaring now that you can't even bother to prepare me a late-night snack? How can you be so cold?!"

His chest heaved violently, catching me off guard.

In the past, whenever he went out for work, no matter how late, I would painstakingly prepare a table full of snacks.

Worried about his stomach, I'd even warm milk.

But each time, he'd push it away with a frown, then post photos of gourmet late-night meals shared with others on social media.

I rubbed my sleepy eyes, speaking as calmly as possible.

"You didn't say you were coming back to eat. You always eat out at these work dinners. I can't exactly chase after you asking if you've eaten, can I? Wouldn't that make you seem weak? Besides, Scarlett was there."

In the past, every time I questioned him, it would provoke his impatience.

He hated all my texts and questions, especially when he was with Scarlett.

So, upon hearing my words, his tightly furrowed brow instantly smoothed.

"That's not what I meant. Isn't preparing a late-night snack what you *should* do? And being with Scarlett? That's purely for the new product launch, don't be silly."

I nodded, a knowing expression on my face.

"I'm not being silly. I just want to sleep."

With that, I pulled the covers over my head, no longer paying attention to his expression as I had before.

But his intense gaze lingered on me for a long time.

That night, the living room light stayed on.

The next day, I woke up early. After washing up, I walked straight to the entryway to change my shoes.

Hunter sat at the dining table, arms crossed.

I knew he was waiting for breakfast, but I didn't give him a chance to speak. I closed the door without looking back.

The wind was biting cold. I pulled my coat tighter and walked into the hospital.

A cool liquid flowed into my veins.

In that moment, there was no sorrow, no sadness.

Only a numb calm.

As they say, a broken heart isn't a sudden storm; it's the slow, steady drip of countless disappointments wearing away what was once burning passion.

On the way back, Hunter texted.

He said the new product had successfully launched, and he was throwing a party at home. He asked me, for the sake of our marriage, not to make a scene.

It was the first time he'd spoken to me in such a pleading tone, and the first time his words carried an almost imperceptible tremble.

The ridiculous thing was, none of it was for me.

But I still agreed.

Not for Hunter, not for anyone else, but to use this opportunity to bring a definitive end to this fractured relationship.

It was bad timing. The moment I opened the door, I saw Scarlett sitting in *my* spot.

She was holding *my* wine glass, laughing and drinking with Hunter.