chapter 2
797 Words
"What? Didn't you love horror films? When did you start liking comedies?" Lean asked doubtfully.
"I never liked horror films. You made me like them. I've always loved comedies, but you said they were silly." As I spoke, tears welled up uncontrollably.
"I am so sorry, honey. Don’t cry." Lean looked at me with heartfelt concern.
I don’t understand, why who seemed so deeply devoted to me, would deceive me.
Anna had sent me so many messages, yet I'd only read a quarter of them. I dared not scroll any further.
I feared all this beauty might be a lie.
A ringtone shattered the strange atmosphere.
Seeing the unfamiliar number flashing, Lean swiftly grabbed his phone and headed towards the study, not forgetting to reassure me: "It's a new client. Don't cry, alright? It'll break my heart if you do."
I knew it was Anna calling. Her number appeared when she added me as a contact.
He’d never taken calls behind my back before. Even work calls were handled openly in front of me, sometimes even on speakerphone. Now he’d retreated into the study.
“Alice, there’s an urgent document at the office I need to handle. I’ll be out for a bit. Don’t wait up for me. Go to sleep.” Lean said hurriedly.
It was the first time I’d seen such a flustered, anxious expression on his usually composed face.
Without a second thought for my heartbreak, he simply walked out.
In the past, he would have gone out of his way to cheer me up.
Hugging my knees, I recalled our shared moments.
Had Lean changed today? Perhaps not.
The familiar notification chime sounded. I guessed it was Anna, whom I'd never met.
"I said I was scared, and your husband rushed over to keep me company." Below was a photo of Lean with her.
A chill crept up my spine, freezing me to the bone. Why deceive me?
When we married, we pledged absolute honesty—no deception. It was a matter of principle.
Yet now, that principle lay shattered.
Scrolling through Anna’s stream of their shared moments, my heart ached deeper. Tears blurred my vision, soaking the pillowcase.
So Lean's culinary skills were honed for her, and the habits I cultivated were hers too.
Glancing at the time on my phone, it was already three in the morning. Lean still hadn't returned, nor had she sent a single message. I drifted off amidst the ache in my heart.
"Ding ding ding"—awakened by the alarm.
"Darling, turn off your phone." I called out to Lean out of habit, reaching beside me only to find emptiness. He hadn't returned at all last night.
I jolted awake, a splitting headache pounding. Lean had always looked after me so well; it had been ages since I'd been this sleep-deprived.
I glanced at my phone. Lean had sent a message.
"Alice, I'm off to work now. There might be some bread in the refrigerator."
Had he come back last night? Had I lost my memory?
"What time did you get back last night?" I asked, puzzled.
The reply came swiftly: "Two in the morning. You were already asleep."
Hmph, lying to me again.
I hastily gathered my things and drove to work.
My mind was in turmoil. I couldn't fathom why Lean would treat me this way.
"Thud!" In a moment of inattention, I crashed into a tree.
A searing pain shot through my head, accompanied by the sensation of warm fluid flowing out. Out of long-ingrained habit, I dialled Lean's number, but no one answered. After three repeated attempts, the silence persisted.
Gritting my teeth, I dialled 911 with the last shred of lucidity.
When I came round again, everything was white. My head throbbed faintly, and I felt dizzy and nauseous.
"You're awake. You've had eight stitches in your head and a moderate concussion. You'll need to stay in hospital," the nurse said, looking at me.
"I understand."
I dialled Lean's number again. Still no answer.
He'd never been like this before. He'd always pick up my calls instantly, or at least text me if he was busy.
"Stop calling. Your husband's giving my dog a bath right now," read the flashing message.
My heart ached, stabbing like needles.
So his mobile phone could be handed over to another woman without a second thought.
He’d said his phone was for my eyes only.
My parents died in a car accident two years ago. Apart from Lean, I have no family left. I could only ask the nurse to find me a carer.
Under the influence of medication, I drifted into a deep sleep.
When I awoke again, the city was ablaze with neon lights. Lean must have realised I wasn’t home by now.
- Writer
