Chapter 2

I bit my lip hard. Andrew was tired of me, and he felt less fun to be with me, a middle-aged woman.

Andrew and I had grown up together—we'd gone from campus to wedding. I thought back to right after college and eventually gave up my promising future for him, confining myself to that small house. However, he'd already grown tired of me.

I forced myself to hold back the anger and resentment boiling inside. All the vows he'd once made suddenly felt ridiculous.

I clenched my hands tightly, unable to believe that the man I'd thought I'd spend my whole life with had become like this. An indescribable despair welled up in my chest, but I needed to think clearly.

I glanced at Andrew and Sohpie, who were chatting away happily. I set the lunch box by the door, then turned and left quietly.

When I got home, I sat numbly on the living room sofa, finally able to sort through all the little moments from the past.

Somehow, without me noticing, Andrew and I had started talking less and less. There were even times when we exchanged only three or five sentences a month.

At first, I'd thought he was just too busy, so I didn't pay it much mind. Now that I was clear-headed, I realized—it was because he didn't care about me anymore.

It wasn't until after 1 a.m. that Andrew finally got home, long overdue. As soon as he walked in and saw me sitting on the sofa, he looked a little surprised. "Why haven't you slept yet?" he asked.

"I was waiting for you. There's something I want to talk to you about," I said.

Andrew set the insulated lunch box in his hand on the coffee table, then asked casually, "You left in such a hurry today—did something happen? If Sophie hadn't seen the lunch box by the door, I would've thought you never came."

I didn't want to play this game of testing each other. I got straight to the point. "Sophie's been at the company for a while now. You should let her get experience in different departments—you can't keep her by your side forever."

I continued, "Otherwise, people will say that she gets promoted only because she came from the same university as us. What will other interns think about this?"

Andrew probably didn't expect me to bring up Sophie.

Just like he always did, he took off his coat, sat down calmly beside me, and said flatly, "That's company business. We don't talk about work at home, remember?"

"Fine, then let's talk about our life. Your mom has been pushing us hard to have a baby lately—what do you think?" I said.

Andrew's face dropped instantly, his expression full of annoyance. "The company's swamped lately. I don't have the energy for this."

I said, "Honey, my cousin's kid is getting married next week—they want us to go. Your mom wants to open a beauty salon and asked me to join her. What do you think, honey?"

"Alright, alright." Andrew cut me off sharply. Usually, he'd speak to me in a flat, calm tone, but this time, his voice was laced with anger, clearly impatient.

"Do you really have to be so unreasonable?" he snapped.

"I don't know why you suddenly brought up Sophie, and I don't have the energy to argue about this with you. If you insist on transferring her, fine—do whatever you want. I don't want to fight," he said.

Compared to Andrew's irritation, I stayed perfectly calm, just staring at him quietly.

We sat in silence on the sofa for a while. Andrew must have realized something was off and softened as he asked, "Did you see something at the company today that made you misunderstand?"

He added, "I'm exhausted from work every day—I can't always pay attention to your mood."

He looked so wronged. But to me, it just felt ridiculous.

He was cooing at me with his mouth, but I bet he was thinking how annoying this old woman was being.

"Honey, is that a lipstick stain on your shirt?" I suddenly said, as if it were an afterthought.

As expected, he stepped back quickly, covering his collar with his hand. "Is there? I don't think so. I'm all sweaty and smelly—I'll go clean up later so I don't bother you."

My heart sank instantly. In fact, there was nothing on his collar at all. It was just a guilty conscience.

Andrew had once said he'd love me forever, but now, he seemed to forget that.

I sat up straight, holding back the emotions churning inside me. "When I went to the company today, I heard you and Sophie chatting."

"You're married, so you don't have to worry—but Sophie's still a young girl. Gossip like that would sound terrible for her. You should have looked out for her," I said.

I wasn't being considerate. I just wanted to warn him.

But Andrew didn't seem to get it. He thought I was being unreasonable.

"Emily, our minds have probably grown apart a long time ago. We can't even talk about the same things anymore. I manage thousands of people at the company every day, while you just do chores around our house," he said

"I don't know what people around you have been saying to influence you, making you think about all this nonsense. Your unfounded accusations really hurt me." With that, he stormed upstairs.

People only rushed to cover up when the truth was getting too close. This was the "good husband" everyone talked about.

When Andrew took my hand when we were 17, he probably would never have imagined that one day, he'd hate the girl he once loved so much.

I didn't go upstairs to rest. Instead, I went straight to the guest room. That's where I felt I belonged now.