Chapter 3
Between the twenty-third and thirtieth days, my call log showed I'd made seven calls. But Nina didn't pick up a single one.
Back then, I just figured she was too busy.
But now I know the truth. During the first week after I left, my mom went through Nina's phone while she was in the shower. I saw everything on the security footage, Mom, wearing her reading glasses, tinkering with Nina's phone for about three minutes.
She set my number to forward calls.
Every call was rerouted to her phone.
So for three whole months, every time I tried to call my wife, it was my mom who answered instead.
Every time Mom picked up, she'd say the same thing.
Mom said, "Nina's taking a break, don't disturb her.
"She went out shopping today, she's in a great mood. No need to worry.
"Everything's fine at home. You just concentrate on your work."
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, numb and cold to the touch.
I kept watching the footage.
On the forty-first day, my second uncle was sprawled out in the living room, watching TV and helping himself to the Maotai from my liquor cabinet.
After three glasses, he called someone, grinning like he owned the place. "Brother. Life's pretty sweet here. Your sister-in-law, that's the eldest son's wife, takes care of everything. The house is huge, probably worth several million. You should come stay for a few days."
I caught every word.
He called my dad brother instead of cousin.
I exported the video and saved it in a special folder.
At four in the morning, I shut down my computer and headed back to the bedroom.
Nina was still asleep, curled up in the same position.
Her slender wrist bore a faint pink scar, not from self-harm, but from years spent in the kitchen, handling hot pots and pans. Her skin had been burned, scabbed over, and burned again, until the scar became a permanent mark.
I sat by the bed for a while.
Then I bent down and gently tucked the blanket around her.
She mumbled something in her sleep, so I leaned closer to catch her words.
"Mark, when are you coming back?"
My eyes burned with emotion for a moment.
But that heat vanished almost instantly.
Leaving me cold, so cold it chilled me to the bone.
I got up, headed to the study, took out my phone, and messaged Zane Horton.
"I need you to handle two things. First, check all my account transactions from the past three months. Second, get the paperwork ready for a marital property agreement."
Zane shot back right away, "Man, you ghost me for three months and then drop a bomb like this? What happened?"
"Handle it first. We'll talk later."
"Got it. Swing by my firm tomorrow morning," he said.
I turned off my phone screen and sat there in the dark.
Outside, the sky was just starting to lighten.
Nina rolled over in bed, the springs creaking softly.
I clenched my fists.
'Mom, if you hadn't messed with her phone, I never would have known any of this. But you did. So don't blame me for what happens next.' I thought.
The next morning, around six, the kitchen light flicked on again.
I heard Nina quietly getting up, her movements so light she barely made a sound, closing the door as softly as a passing breeze, careful not to wake me.
I lay there wide awake, listening to the kitchen noises, the water running, the low hum of the exhaust fan, and the spatula tapping gently against the bottom of the pan.
At 6:40, I got up, washed up, and stepped out of the bedroom.
In the living room, the three kids were still asleep, the blanket on the couch a mess. The youngest must've had an accident during the night, leaving a big wet spot on the couch cushion.
Nina was crouched in front of the couch, scrubbing at the stain with a towel.
When she saw me, she stood up reflexively, hands quickly hidden behind her back. "You're up? Breakfast is almost ready."
"Let me handle it," I said.
"No, it's fine, "
I walked over, crouched down, and pulled the towel right out of her hands.
She froze, staring at me, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears.
"What are you doing?" Nina sniffled, "You just got back, you should really take it easy, "
"Nina," I said, looking up at her.
"How much weight have you lost?"
"N-Not much," she stammered.
"Come on, Nina, step on the scale for me," I said gently.
She just stood there, frozen.
I put the towel down, got up, and gently led her to the bathroom scale.
The numbers flickered for a second, then settled.
99 pounds.
Three months ago, she weighed 120 pounds.
She'd dropped a whole 20 pounds.
I stared at the number in silence, my heart sinking.
She stood on the scale, barefoot, her toes curled tight like a scared kitten.
"It's just that I've been eating less, really... I'm fine," Nina whispered, trying to reassure me.