Chapter 7
I didn't respond, just carried the dishes into the kitchen.
The faucet was running, and I scrubbed the plates as if I was trying to wash away something dirty. 'It felt like I was scrubbing off more than just food stains,' I thought.
He turned on the TV in the living room, and the cheerful music from the New Year's Eve warm-up show floated in, only making the kitchen feel colder and emptier by contrast.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I dried my hands and pulled it out to check.
It was a message from my friend. [Got the first batch for you.
[Chloe Hart, 25, planning department at XX Media Group. Here's the juicy stuff: 1. She's been there six months; nothing special work-wise, but everyone loves her, especially the higher-ups.
[2. Her spending's gone way up in the last three months: bought two designer bags, a bunch of jewelry, and she's been dropping cash at fancy malls, restaurants, and hotels.
[3. Her alt social media is wild. She's always chatting up "Mr. C," and it gets pretty explicit. "Mr. C" fits Brian Cole's profile you gave me.
[4. Hotel stays: three times at Harmony Suites in the past two months, all booked under Chloe, no other guest listed. All happened when you were working late or out of town.
[5. She's at Sunview Mall right now, just walked in.]
He also sent over some screenshots: Chloe's wild posts on her alt account, receipts from her shopping sprees, and blurry hotel lobby surveillance shots.
All I could see was their back and part of their arm, but that jacket, that watch; those were unmistakably his.
My anger burned hot, then vanished into a chilling numbness in seconds.
My fingers shook from how hard I was holding the phone, but I didn't let go.
Guess it was never just about a seat change after all.
Hotel rooms, designer stuff, and those dirty texts—the timeline stretched back two whole months. And me? I was the biggest idiot alive; and I never saw it coming.
I asked: [Can you get a clearer shot from the surveillance? Like, a front view that shows Brian's face.]
My friend said: [I can, but it's risky, costs a lot, and will take some time. You sure you want to go through with it?]
[Yes. Whatever it costs, just get it done ASAP.]
[Got it. Also, her alt account just posted a selfie three minutes ago; she's at Sunview Mall, trying on a ring at a brand-name jewelry shop. Caption: 'He says the New Year calls for something new.' Take a look and see what you make of it.]
I clicked the link my friend sent me.
The account was called "Coco's Secret Garden." In the latest post, Chloe was giving the camera a playful, charming smile, showing off a diamond ring on her finger, not over-the-top, but clearly a brand-name piece.
The jewelry store's logo was clearly visible in the background.
The "he" in her post couldn't be more obvious.
New Year, new beginnings?
Using my man to buy her a ring for her "new beginnings"?
A cold fury shot up my spine, but it was quickly smothered by an even deeper chill.
Getting angry wouldn't fix anything; it would just make me lose control. I wasn't after some screaming match or messy fight. That would be letting them off way too easy.
What I wanted was to cut them to pieces with a dull knife, to let them stand high and mighty thinking they were untouchable, and then shove them off their pedestal myself, watching as they shattered into pieces.
I turned off my phone screen, took a deep breath, forcing down the nausea and rage churning in my chest. When I turned around, my face was a blank mask; no one could tell anything was wrong.
Brian poked his head into the kitchen. "Emmy, I gotta step out for a bit. Something urgent came up at work. I'll be back soon, and I'll definitely be home for dinner tonight!"
He sounded rushed, but his eyes were darting around, and he was already holding his car keys.
Urgent? On New Year's Eve? Please. He was rushing off to give his new flame her "fresh start" for the New Year.
"What's so urgent? It's New Year's Eve," I asked, wiping my hands, acting like I didn't care.
"Just some project data issues. The client's freaking out, so I have to go double-check things at the office," he said, slipping on his jacket, sounding impatient. "It's complicated, you wouldn't understand. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Oh, go ahead," I nodded, even managed a smile. "Be careful on the road, and come back soon."
He looked surprised by how calm I was, then smiled and leaned in to kiss my cheek. "See? My wife gets it. I'll be back soon."
I tilted my head just enough so his kiss landed by my ear.
That sickening scent, a mix of his smell and her perfume, made my stomach turn.
"Mm," I replied, watching as he hurriedly put on his shoes and left.