Chapter 1
The video call stayed on the whole time for three days straight.
I stared at the screen, watching my husband eat, shop, watch movies, and head back to the hotel with another woman.
I watched him buy her a bag for six grand and say, "Baby, you deserve the best."
I watched him hold her and say, "My wife's a boring old lady. It's only fun when I'm with you."
Three days later, the video finally cut off.
I saved the recording and turned off my phone.
Then I laughed.
*****
It was Friday.
My husband, Clifford Davis, said he had to go on a business trip for three days.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Altaren. I have to talk to a client about a project," he replied.
I nodded and started packing his suitcase.
I packed two shirts, three pairs of underwear, and three pairs of socks. I put his razor and toothbrush in the toiletry bag.
"Honey, where's the charger?" he asked.
"It's in the side pocket of the bag," I replied.
"Okay." He picked up the suitcase. "I'm heading out."
"Take care," I said.
He walked out the door.
I stood by the window, watching him get into a taxi. The car drove off, turned the corner, and disappeared.
I turned around, ready to tidy up the room.
My phone rang.
It was a video call request from Clifford.
I answered it.
"What's up? Did you forget something?" I asked.
His face was on the screen. He seemed to be looking at his phone.
"Hello?" I called out again.
He didn't say anything.
The camera wobbled, and I caught a glimpse of the scenery outside the car window.
He must have accidentally requested a car by accident.
I was about to hang up.
The screen froze.
He set his phone on his lap, camera facing up.
I could see his chin and the ceiling.
He was talking to someone.
"I'll pick you up later, at our usual spot," he said.
"Okay, I miss you," the person on the other end replied.
The voice was light, soft, and almost sickeningly sweet.
It wasn't meant for me.
No one had ever talked to me like that. Not even Clifford.
My finger hovered over the screen.
The hang-up button was right there.
But I didn't hit the button.
I stared at the screen, at his chin, listening to his voice.
Clifford said, "I miss you too. the two of us these next few days. Let's make the most of it."
I lowered my hand.
I didn't hang up.
I set my phone on the dining table and hit record.
Then I sat down and watched.
Clifford and I had been married for five years.
We didn't have kids, not because I didn't want them, but because he always said, "Let's wait. We're not financially ready yet."
I was 32. He was 34.
We met through a blind date.
His family was nothing special. His parents were blue-collar workers. Mine was pretty ordinary, too. My parents ran a small grocery store.
When we got married, his folks paid the down payment, and mine took care of the renovations. The house was under his name.
The wedding was super basic. We did not do a fancy wedding shoot or honeymoon. He said, "Let's save the money for our daily life."
I went along with it.
For the past five years, I'd been scrimping and saving every cent.
I'd shop for groceries at the evening market because it was cheaper, pick out clothes at discount stores to save money, and only use the most basic skincare.
As Clifford always said, "The basic ones are enough."
Clifford gave me one thousand dollars a month for living expenses.
He handled the mortgage payments.
I had to figure the rest out myself.
I worked as an accountant at a small company, making 2000 dollars a month. After paying for my own stuff, I put away whatever was left.
After five years, I managed to save 60 grand.
I thought this was our future together.
I thought we were a couple getting through tough times side by side.
I thought he was cutting back like I was.
It all changed with that video.
In the video, Clifford arrived at a place I'd never seen before.
I had no idea where it was.
It looked like the entrance to some upscale apartment complex.
He got out of the car and stood there, waiting.
About five minutes later, a woman stepped out.
She couldn't have been thirty yet. She had long hair, flawless makeup, and a white dress that made her look even more elegant.
She was beautiful.
She was prettier than I was.
Clifford went straight to her and pulled her into a hug.
"Have you been waiting long?" he asked.
She said with a smile, "Not really. Come on. Let's go."
They got into Clifford's car.
That was when I realized he wasn't driving his usual car.
It was an Audi.
I'd never seen that car before.
"When did he buy this car?" I muttered.
Of course, no one answered me.
On screen, the woman sat in the passenger seat while Clifford drove.
They talked as if nothing else in the world mattered.
"What do you feel like eating tonight?" Clifford asked.
"I'm good with anything. You decide," the woman replied.
"Wanna try that restaurant you wanted to go to last time?" Clifford suggested.
The woman beamed. "Yeah. I heard their seafood is really fresh."
"Alright, let's do it," Clifford said.
I stared at the screen.
In five years of marriage, Clifford and I had never once had seafood together.
Once, I brought up wanting to try one of those restaurants.
Clifford brushed it off, saying, "What's the point? It's pricey, and you won't even get full. We'd be better off grabbing a sandwich."
I never brought it up again.
Now I knew that it wasn't that he was stingy about seafood.
It was that he didn't want to enjoy it with me.
They pulled up to a seafood restaurant.
It was one of those upscale places, with staff in suits greeting guests at the door.
Clifford parked, then came around to open the car door for her.
He'd never once opened a car door for me.
Not even back when we were dating.
He always said, "What's the point of all that fake courtesy?"
Now he was opening the door for someone else.
Once inside, a staff member showed them to a private room.
Clifford and I always ate in the main hall, usually at some loud, cheap fast-food place.
He'd always say, "Quiet places cost too much."
It turned out that it wasn't that he didn't like quiet places.
He just didn't want to share a peaceful meal with me.
They ordered a ton of food.
I couldn't make out the names of the dishes, but I could see plate after plate being brought out.
There was seafood, BBQ, and a bottle of wine.
The woman picked up a slice of salmon and fed it to Clifford.
"Here, try this," she said.
Clifford leaned in and let her feed him.
"So, how is it?" she asked.
Clifford replied with a grin, "Tastes great, but you're even better."
The woman laughed and gave him a playful slap. "You're such a tease."
I stared at Clifford on the screen.
He was smiling.
He looked completely at ease, truly happy, like he didn't have a care in the world.
I tried to remember the last time he'd smiled at me like that, but I couldn't.
It felt like he'd never smiled at me like that.
After dinner, they went shopping.
They went to a mall.
I didn't recognize the place, but it looked upscale.
They held hands, wandering from the first floor to the third.
The woman stopped in front of a store.
"LV。"
I knew that brand.
I had never bought one.
Even the cheapest bag would cost at least 3 thousand dollars.
Clifford always used to say, "Why bother buying a bag like that? It carries the same stuff as any other bag."
But now, Clifford asked, "Which one do you like?"
The woman pointed at a brown bag in the display window.
"That one looks nice," she said.
Clifford took her inside.
I watched as Clifford pulled out his card, swiped it, and signed the receipt.
The price was 7 thousand dollars.
I saw it clear as day.
I spent five years pinching pennies and managed to save up 60 grand.
He spent more than a year's worth of my savings on one bag for her.
That night, they checked into a hotel.
It was not a regular hotel.
It was one of those fancy hotels where a single night would cost a thousand dollars.
I could tell by looking at the lobby on the screen. There were crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and staff in crisp uniforms.
Clifford went up to the front desk to check in.
The woman stood by his side, waiting.
I heard Clifford say, "A suite."
He booked a suite.
In five years of marriage, Clifford and I had only traveled together twice.
We always stayed at motels.
He always said, "We're just sleeping for one night. No need for anything nice."
Now I understood that it wasn't that he didn't care for luxury.
He just didn't want me to stay somewhere nice.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I kept my eyes glued to the screen, watching it fade to black and then light up again.
In the early hours, the screen lit up for a moment.
Clifford got up to use the bathroom.
As he walked past the phone, I saw the bed.
The woman was lying there, sleeping.
The blanket was pulled up to her chest.
Clifford looked at her, leaned over, and kissed her forehead.
Then he went to the bathroom.
I stared at the screen.
He never once kissed me on the forehead.
I always figured he wasn't the kind of guy who'd do that.
I thought he didn't know how to express himself.
I thought he wasn't romantic.
It turned out that he could be romantic.
He just didn't want to be that way with me.