Chapter 1

The new skincare collection on the bathroom counter hit me first.

A complete set of SK-II products—the toner, the moisturizer, the brightening serum—was arranged neatly in front of the mirror.

But I always used Lancôme.

I stood there staring at those three bottles, a dull ringing noise filling my mind.

I had only been away on a business trip for seven days, and the place already felt like it belonged to someone else.

After quietly setting down my luggage, I made my way into the bedroom.

That was when I noticed the bedsheets had been changed.

The ones I bought were gray, but the ones on the bed were now pink.

And then, out of nowhere, I laughed.

*****

I stood at the bedroom door, staring at the pink sheets.

Everything—pillowcases, duvet cover, flat sheet, fitted sheet—was pink.

The gray ones I bought were nowhere to be seen.

I opened the closet and saw them neatly folded on the bottom shelf.

Right next to them was a paper shopping bag. I picked it up and took a look. It was from a store I never shop at.

I walked back to the bathroom.

Next to the SK-II set was a pink toothbrush.

There was a brand new cup, pink too.

I glanced at my own blue toothbrush, still in its usual spot.

I leaned against the sink, staring at the two toothbrushes for a long time.

I was only gone on a business trip for seven days, and someone else had moved into my life.

I picked up my phone and texted my husband, David Miller. [I'm home.]

He replied instantly. [Welcome back, babe. I'll come home early and cook for you tonight.]

I stared at his message, not replying.

I set my phone down and started wandering around the house.

There was a pink plush bunny cushion on the living room couch.

On the coffee table sat a fashion magazine.

That was not really my thing.

I stepped onto the balcony. Two pieces of clothing were hanging on the drying rack.

One was David's shirt, and the other was a floral dress.

My wardrobe was all crisp office attire. A floral sundress wasn't part of it.

I pulled the dress down and checked the tag.

It was a Medium. Mine were all Large.

I tossed the dress back onto the rack and turned to head into the kitchen.

Inside the fridge was half a box of strawberries.

I was allergic to strawberries, and David knew it.

I closed the fridge door and stood in the middle of the kitchen, taking a deep breath.

Just then, my phone rang. It was David.

"Babe, what do you want for dinner tonight? I'll pick up groceries on my way home," he said.

His voice was so gentle, as if everything was perfectly normal.

"Anything's fine," I replied.

"Guess I'll pick up some fish. You love it steamed, don't you?" he said.

"Sure," I answered, and then ended the call.

I didn't pull the sheets off the bed. I didn't smash a thing. I didn't even cry.

I sat there on the couch, frozen, staring at that pink bunny cushion.

Seven days was all he needed to cover every corner of this house with the traces of another woman.

The last three years of marriage to David felt hollow now.

This place was mine. I bought it before we ever got married.

The down payment was 330 thousand dollars. That was my entire savings from five years of work, plus a 65,000-dollar gift from my mother.

The monthly mortgage was 4,300 dollars, and I'd been paying it all by myself for three years. There were still twenty-two years left.

Only my name was on the deed.

David didn't contribute a cent.

Back then, he promised we'd pay it off together after we got married.

But after we got married, he'd just chip in 1,000 dollars a month for household expenses and put the rest aside for himself, saying it was "for our future children."

I never complained. I thought that was what marriage was—not keeping score.

All my compromise was for nothing. I had bought this place and was paying the mortgage, yet he had moved another woman in and even let her swap out my bedsheets.

I suddenly felt like laughing.

I opened my photo album and started snapping pictures of the SK-II, the pink toothbrush, the pink sheets, the floral dress, and the pink bunny cushion.

Then I opened up the food delivery app and checked the order history.

Every single day I was gone, there were orders for two.

The most recent one was last night.

He ordered a large Buffalo chicken wing platter and two Cokes.

The note read: [Less spicy, extra fries.]

But I remembered that David hated fries.

I kept scrolling through the order history, going back further and further. I saw orders from a week ago, from two weeks ago, from a full month ago, then from two months, and finally from three months back.

Every single one of them was for two people.

I stared at the order history, my fingers feeling icy.

She'd been living in my house for three months straight.

I looked up at the ceiling, my eyes stinging, but not a single tear fell.

Just then, the sound of keys turning in the lock came from the doorway.

David walked in, groceries in hand, smiling as he came over to me.

"Babe, I got your favorite fish," he said.

I looked at him, the man I had trusted to grow old with.

He set the groceries down and came over, trying to pull me into a hug.

"You must be tired. Haven't seen you in a week. I really missed you," he said.

I stepped back. "David," I said softly.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Whose SK-II is that on the bathroom counter?" I asked.

His smile froze for just a moment, barely a flicker.

Then he grinned again, like nothing happened. "Oh, that? It's my coworker's. She came over to use the bathroom last time and left it behind."

I met his gaze.

"What about the sheets?" I asked.

"What sheets?" he replied.

"The gray sheets I bought have been replaced with pink ones," I said.

He froze again.

"Oh, that... I washed them. They're still drying, so I put on another set for now," he explained.

"Pink ones?" I pressed.

"Yes. My mom brought them over last time. She said pink is good," he replied.

I nodded. "And that floral dress on the balcony?"

His mouth twitched. "What dress?"

"The floral one. Size Medium," I said.

"I... I have no idea. Maybe it's my mom's," he mumbled.

I looked at him, my suspicion plain. "Your mom wears a Medium?"

He just stayed quiet.

I looked at him, suddenly feeling completely drained.

"David, I checked the food delivery records," I continued.

"What records?" he asked.

"You ordered for two people every single day for the last three months. Always with a note asking for extra fries and less spicy." I paused before adding, "You hate fries."

His face darkened. "You... you've been snooping on me?"

"I wasn't snooping on you. I was just checking the food delivery orders for my own place," I said.

"So what, you think I'm cheating or something?" he shot back, raising his voice.

"Emily, enough with the suspicion. I work all day, and now I come home to an interrogation?" he snapped.

I held his gaze. "Then tell me who she is."

"What woman? There is no woman. Are you serious?"

As he spoke, he turned to leave.

I didn't stop him.

"David," I said, stopping him in his tracks.

"This apartment cost 790 thousand dollars. I paid the down payment. I pay the mortgage. My name is the only one on the deed," I added.

He turned, his expression shifting. "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing special," I said, smiling calmly. "I just wanted to remind you that this is my house."

He stared at me for a long moment, silent. Then he turned, walked out, and slammed the door behind him.