Chapter 4
Aaron: [Layla, where did you go? There's no one at home.]
I stared at the message, my fingertips cold as ice. I didn't reply.
Before long, my phone lit up with a call. I hesitated for a second, but answered anyway.
"Layla, why didn't you reply to my message?" Aaron asked.
"I'm at my mom's place. I didn't check my phone," I said.
"Did something happen at your home? Why'd you suddenly head back?" he continued, sounding worried.
"Nothing's wrong," I replied, forcing a bitter smile. "Work's just been exhausting, so I wanted to come home for a couple of days."
He paused for a few seconds, then said, "You don't sound right. Did your mom scold you again? She's always hard on you. Next time, don't go back alone. I worry about you, so we'll go together next time."
I clutched my phone. My throat felt tight like something was stuck there. All I could do was mumble a faint "Okay."
"Don't stay there. Come back to Merton," Aaron said firmly. "I'll book your flight right now and pick you up at the airport. Tonight, we'll go to Disneyland. You've always wanted to go, right? This time, I'll be there with you for the fireworks show."
I'd begged him to take me to Disneyland so many times.
Ever since our third year of marriage, I'd been asking, but he always blew me off with work, meetings, or some business trip.
Now, hearing him say that, I didn't feel touched at all. Instead, it felt like something stabbed me inside.
Aaron said gently, "Don't take what your mom says to heart. I'm here for you. As long as we have each other, that's what really matters."
Silent tears rolled down my face, soaking into the bag of fruit and leaving a blurry wet spot behind.
That year, when we'd barely settled in Merton, I cried myself to sleep the whole night because of a nightmare client.
Aaron pulled me into his arms and whispered, "Layla, don't let it get to you. You have me. We'll make a good life together, and that's what matters most."
I didn't say a word, just bit down on my lip and let the tears stream down my face.
"Layla, are you crying?" Aaron sounded panicked. "I'm booking your ticket right now. Hurry and head to the airport. I'll be waiting for you."
I sniffled, my voice choked with emotion. "Okay."
Dragging my suitcase out of baggage claim, I spotted Aaron leaning against a pillar not too far away.
He looked totally put together, black suit jacket tossed over his arm, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other fiddling with his phone.
He kept his eyes glued to the exit. The moment he saw me, his whole face lit up. "Layla!"
He rushed over, grabbed my suitcase, and slipped his other hand into mine. His fingers felt warm and comfortable.
Before I could say anything, he gently pulled me close, his voice softer than ever. "Did something upset you when you went back alone? I'm sorry. Next time, I'll go with you."
I lifted my eyes to him and saw his gaze filled with tenderness and pain for me, his brows drawn together just a little. He looked so real and heartfelt that it made me feel lost for a moment.
In that moment, a thought suddenly popped into my head. Maybe I could just hold on a bit longer and not go through with the divorce.
He was well-off, and I never had to worry about money.
We'd been through tough times together, and there were so many warm memories. He still cared about me, at least a little. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way to pick me up or planned to take me to Disneyland.
So what if he didn't want to sleep with me? I could just do IVF. If we had a kid, maybe this family would finally feel solid again.
Once he's had his fun and gets tired of it, once he matures, he'll come back to me.
At least that way, I wouldn't have to deal with the mess and embarrassment of a divorce, wouldn't have family questioning me, and wouldn't have to face some big, unpredictable future alone.
This honestly seemed like the safest bet right now.
As long as I kept all my pain and betrayal bottled up and pretended nothing was wrong, I could just keep living like this.
Once that thought popped up, it twined around my heart like stubborn vines, refusing to let go.
I almost managed to convince myself it was the right thing to do.
We'd just hit the highway when Aaron's phone started ringing.
He glanced at the caller ID, and his face slowly darkened. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
After he hung up, I asked softly, "Is everything okay?"
He turned to me, hesitating a little as he tried to find the right words.
He replied, "Something came up with a project at work. They want me to go sort it out... But don't worry, I told them I already had plans. Today, I'm spending time with you at Disneyland, so they'll just have to handle it themselves."
My heart sank deeper with each passing second, and without even realizing it, my fingers gripped the edge of my shirt so tightly my nails nearly pierced the fabric.
"Don't worry about it." I shook my head, doing my best to keep my voice steady. "Your work's important. I honestly haven't rested well these past few days anyway. We can save Disneyland for another time. There's no rush."
"But we promised we'd go…" He insisted.
"Really, it's fine," I said, nodding toward the metro sign ahead. "Just let me off at the next stop. I'll ride the subway back on my own. Don't worry about me. Go handle your work before it gets busy."
He fell silent for a moment, then finally agreed. "Alright then, if I end up stuck at the office late tonight, I probably won't make it home. You get some rest, okay? Don't wait up."
"Alright, I got it," I answered.
I got out at the intersection and stood by the roadside, watching as Aaron's car disappeared into the rush of traffic.
I knew all along he wasn't heading to the office.
Today was Emily's birthday.
I'd seen their chats. On Valentine's Day, he'd told her he had to go home and couldn't spend the day with her. So he promised he'd make it up to her on her birthday.
About an hour later, Aaron texted me. [I'm at the office. Text me when you get home so I know you're safe.]
I just stared at his message for ten whole minutes, feeling like something was stuck in my chest, so suffocating I could barely breathe.
In the end, I slowly typed back: [Home now. Don't work too hard, take care.]
Late at night, I scrolled through Emily's social feed.
She'd just dropped a fresh update, barely a minute ago.
There she was, beaming with a giant bouquet of roses in her arms. And through the window behind her, Aaron was so clear in the background.
The room glowed with warm yellow light. The bed was scattered with rose petals, and on the nightstand sat a wine glass, the rim smeared with lipstick.
The whole vibe screamed hotel.
I turned off my phone, flagged down a cab, and headed straight for the hotel.
Standing outside the hotel's revolving doors, I took a long, shaky breath, then called the police. "Hello, I want to report prostitution. The location is Lunar Hotel, room 2020. His name is Aaron Hill. Please send someone to check immediately."