Chapter 3

After finishing everything, Estelle pulled out a box from the closet beside her. Inside were ninety-nine handwritten love letters, each one filled with her love and longing for Wallace.

Back when she was leaving for the States, she had smoothed the worry from his brow and said, "I'll write you a letter every two weeks. When I've written ninety-nine, I'll come back.

"You can open one every two weeks, too. By the time you've opened them all, four years will have gone by, and our kids will be calling us Mom and Dad by then."

Now, four years had gone by. She had written all ninety-nine letters just like she promised, and she was back with Wallace. But Wallace had already forgotten about their promise.

She never got to be a mom.

Estelle's thoughts drifted back to the present, and the box in her arms felt impossibly heavy. She blinked back tears and bitterness, then shoved the box back into the closet.

Side by side stood two closets, one overflowing with her love and longing, the other hiding the traces of her husband's betrayal.

Estelle found it quite ironic.

Footsteps echoed outside the door. Estelle quickly slipped back into bed. Moments later, Wallace, smelling strongly of smoke, wrapped his arms around her from behind and gently tucked her in.

It was something he did out of habit, but Estelle's tightly shut lashes couldn't help but tremble.

She wondered how he could fall for two women simultaneously.

When Estelle got up for breakfast, she saw Celeste was there, too.

Wallace sat across from Celeste, unfazed, drinking his soup.

Celeste said while pulling Estelle over to sit beside her, "My birthday's coming up soon, so I came to talk to you about how we should celebrate. I figured I'd crash your breakfast while I'm at it. Your chef's cooking is totally my thing."

It was only then that Estelle realized there was a new chef in the house.

Estelle and Wallace both preferred strong, hearty flavors, so they'd hired a chef from the north.

Later on, Wallace suddenly brought in a southern chef. Coincidentally, Celeste was all about light, delicate dishes. Whenever Celeste dropped by for a meal, the southern chef would always be in charge of the meal.

It turned out that the clues had always been there. Estelle had just been too foolish to notice it.

Thinking about it, Estelle let out a wry, mocking smile. She instinctively pulled away from Celeste's touch. Just as she was about to come up with an excuse to skip breakfast, Celeste slipped a boiled shrimp onto her plate.

Estelle could tell at a glance who had peeled the shrimp.

After all, no one but Wallace would ever butterfly the shrimp's back while peeling it.

Estelle's eyes drifted to the soup in front of Wallace. He would scoop out about a third, then scrape the spoon along the rim of the bowl, just like Celeste always did.

Once Estelle started noticing the clues, it was like the whole truth was staring her in the face. As Celeste was about to feed her the shrimp, Estelle suddenly couldn't hold it in anymore and gagged.

She bent over, covering her mouth. That was when she saw Celeste's foot, still rubbing against Wallace's leg under the table.

Seeing that, Estelle felt the nausea hit her even harder.

Her face grew paler and paler, like she was about to throw up for real.

Celeste paused, looking a little awkward. "Estelle, are you pregnant? I remember you told me you guys don't sleep together. Did something happen?"

Wallace, who'd been quiet the whole time, suddenly cut in, "No."

Estelle shot Wallace a look, pretending to be surprised, but inside, her heart clenched painfully.

She could see Celeste let out a sigh of relief.

There was a brief silence between the three of them. Then Wallace suddenly put down his fork. "Estelle, I'll have the family doctor come check on you. I've got work to do, so you two go ahead and eat."

With that, he got up and headed toward the study.

Celeste stood up, too.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she said.

After they left, Estelle let out a heavy sigh, but the suffocating frustration still pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

She got up and trailed after them. Through the half-open study door, she saw Celeste straddling Wallace's lap.

"I told you not to do this in front of Estelle." His expression was icy, and there was clear irritation in his voice.His expression was icy, and there was clear irritation in his voice.

Celeste pouted. "Are you feeling sorry for her, or just feeling guilty?"