Chapter 2

Troy didn't come home for the next five days.

But his lover kept sending me messages and videos right on schedule, almost like she'd been given the green light to do it.

She wrote: [Moira, Troy said I'm exactly the kind of person he truly wants.

[Moira, he said he's sick of the type of wife who just sits at home all day.

[He's not coming back tonight. Isn't it lonely and cold sleeping by yourself?]

I didn't bother to reply to any of her messages.

I just took my meds on schedule, went for my checkups, and stuck to my usual bedtime. As always, I had my assistant organize and archive all those screenshots.

But on the sixth night, Troy finally called me.

I was at the hospital, just finished a round of tests, sitting on a bench in the hallway waiting for the results.

His voice on the other end was hoarse, with that post-sex rasp in his breath.

He said, "Moira, someone snapped some photos of Samantha and me lately. There's an interview tomorrow. Come to the office and help her set the record straight."

I went quiet for a couple of seconds, just letting his words hang in the air.

"Clarify what exactly?" I asked.

Troy said, "Just say it's all a misunderstanding. Tell them Samantha's just someone I'm sponsoring, and you were there too. You know she's still a kid. She can't handle all this gossip."

I glanced down at the fading needle mark on the back of my hand, feeling nothing but numbness.

"Fine," I replied.

I could hear Troy let out a relieved sigh on the other end.

He said, his tone softening, "You always know how to handle things. How about I come home tonight and spend the night with you? It's been ages since we..."

I interrupted, eyes lowered, "It's not a good time for me right now. I am on my period.

He went quiet for a moment.

"Alright." Troy sounded a bit let down, but quickly switched back to that gentle, coaxing voice. "Get some rest, okay? Don't let your mind wander."

After hanging up, I stared at the dark screen and almost felt like laughing to myself.

He thought I was trying not to cause trouble for him.

But he had no clue that I just felt dirty doing it with him.

The next day, the interview was held in the grand lobby of the corporate headquarters.

The media showed up in full force, flashing cameras and boom mics all aimed at us, the so-called "model couple."

I slipped my arm through Troy's, my makeup immaculate, my smile soft and perfectly poised.

When the reporter brought up those rumors, Troy instinctively glanced at me.

I took the microphone from him.

I said with a gentle smile, "It's honestly just a misunderstanding. Samantha is a student my husband sponsors.

"She's been under the weather lately, so he's checked in on her. Someone snapped some photos, and that's how all these rumors started. I hope everyone doesn't overthink it."

Someone in the crowd called out, "Mrs. Terry, you really don't mind at all?"

I glanced over at Troy, looking at him with nothing but trust in my eyes.

"Of course I trust him," I said softly.

At that moment, Troy's grip on my wrist tightened just a little.

But halfway through the interview, his phone lit up with a message.

Troy's expression shifted in a flash.

He got up, not sparing me a single glance.

"Sorry, something urgent just came up," he said to the host, already halfway out the door.

I just sat there, microphone still in my hand.

The press below broke into a commotion.

Someone shouted, "Mr. Terry, is this because of Samantha? We heard she's been hospitalized!"

Troy's steps faltered for a moment.

Then he walked out without so much as a backward glance.

I sat there alone, right in the brightest spotlight, picking up the pieces for him and finishing the whole 'loving couple' performance by myself.

After everything was over, my assistant came over carefully. "Mrs. Terry, are you alright?"

I stood up, straightened my dress, and gave her a gentle smile.

"I'm fine," I said.

And for once, I really was.

Because I knew that he'd just nudged me a little closer to the end of the road.

That night, he didn't come home.

He texted me: [She's got a bad fever. I'm at the hospital. Don't wait up.]

I replied: [Okay.]

Then, after thinking it over, I sent another message. [My mom's not doing too well. I'm going back home tomorrow. I'll be gone for about a month.]

Troy asked: [Want me to go with you?]

I replied: [It's not a big deal. I'll go by myself.]

Troy: [Okay.]

After sending the message, I let out a sigh of relief, set my phone aside, and went back to reading the latest report that had just come in.

The words practically jumped off the page.

It read: [The incubation period is over. It's contagious now.]