Belated Awakening

I returned to the bedroom after dinner and sat there for a long time.

Only when the bedroom door opened did I snap out of it.

Ayden walked in, and I looked up, noticing his bare wrist and the cheap necklace around his neck that caught the light in a glaring way.

I stopped beating around the bush and held my phone right in front of him. "Is the necklace from her?"

He glanced at the screen and pushed my phone aside. "You're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" I chewed on the word over and over, feeling as if my heart was crushed.

He finally looked up, with no trace of guilt in his eyes, and answered lightly. "The girl just became my secretary. She gave me a little trinket on the spur of the moment. Ella, aren't you being too sensitive?"

I felt struck by lightning. Since when did Ayden hire female secretaries?

In the past, he always chose male assistants and drivers.

He said he didn't like having women around him.

The long silence irritated Ayden, and before closing the door he only left one sentence. "I'm sleeping in the study tonight. Calm down."

I stood there motionless, the three-second video looping on my phone.

My eyes grew dry and sore, yet I couldn't even bear to blink.

I knew Ayden's personality too well.

He had so many invisible rules that he allowed no one to break.

But he let me drink from his glass and mess up his neatly organized files.

I thought those were exceptions he made for me.

Now I realized they were probably just trivial matters to him.

I stood numbly for a long time before finally gathering the courage to walk into the study.

The door was unlocked, and his chat app was automatically logged in on the computer.

In five years of marriage, this was the first time I looked at his messages.

Among many work group chats, an account nicknamed "Clairy" was prominently pinned at the top of the dialogue list.

The chat contained no explicit sweet talk, just the girl's daily fragmented murmurs to him.

Yet they hurt more than any love words.

A notification from a flower shop popped up at the top of the screen.

I stared at it for a while before reacting and clicked into the message.

The earliest order date on the details page was from a year ago.

So it started that long ago?

Back in the chat interface, I realized that the Ayden I thought was dull and old-fashioned actually remembered the types of flowers a girl liked.

I stared at the computer screen in a daze for a long time.

So long that I didn't notice when Ayden returned.

"What are you doing?" I lifted my head and met his cold gaze.

He glanced over my face, then at the lit screen.

Each heartbeat pulled at a sour ache.

I suddenly lost all strength to probe further. "The person in the video is you, right?"

Ayden paused noticeably. "What?"

I swiped open my phone, navigated to Claire's profile page, and held it out to him.

I stared into his eyes, trying to find a hint of panic.

But there was nothing.

"Just because of this?" He walked in and casually turned off the computer. "You said it yourself, girls love fantasizing about these idol scenarios. Mrs. Martin, since when did you start fussing over things like this?"

The word "fussing" stuck in my throat.

Ayden and I always seemed separated by an uncrossable winter.

Perhaps he had never truly cared about me.

"Since you're so suspicious, come with me to the dinner tonight." Ayden suddenly spoke.

I froze.

This was the first time in five years he actively suggested taking me to such an event.

"Will she be there?"

His frown deepened, as if annoyed by my questioning. "She is my secretary. Of course she will be."

His tone was straightforward, as if my question was both unnecessary and laughable.

But I still agreed.

The private room door swung open.

This was my second time seeing Claire Hardy.

No wonder she caught Ayden's eye. She was as youthful and beautiful as in the video.

"My wife, Ella." Ayden introduced me briefly to everyone.

Claire smiled and greeted me, yet didn't move from the main seat at all.

I wasn't annoyed and simply found a spot to sit.

The table full of people toasted and chatted, taking the chance to toast the young and pretty Claire.

Ayden reached over with his glass and clinked theirs. "She doesn't drink."

I watched all this in silence.

I picked up my glass and downed a large gulp.

The cold liquid slid down my throat, burning my esophagus.

Under the table, the tip of Claire's high heel lightly tapped his shoe.

When the gathering ended, Claire, slightly tipsy, leaned on Ayden and said her earring had fallen.

He bent down to pick it up without hesitation.

Revealing a faint scratch mark on the back of his neck.

He patiently squatted on the floor, searching for an earring that probably didn't even exist for another woman.

The driver first dropped Claire home.

Only the two of us remained in the back seat.

Reflected in the car window was my face that had long lost its color.

I looked out the window and suddenly spoke. "Mr. Martin appreciates her so much. He should give her a big gift at year-end."

Ayden turned his head, frowning slightly. "Give what?"

"Give her a proper status. I'll step aside for her."

The air in the car froze instantly.

Ayden stared at me, anger surging in his eyes. "Ella, that's enough. Claire is just a secretary. She was in the past, and she will be in the future. If you're unhappy, I'll just have her stay away from you less."

After saying that, he sighed and reached out as he used to, wanting to stroke my head.

I tilted my head to avoid it.

This small movement left his outstretched hand frozen in mid-air. "I'll prepare the divorce agreement. You just need to sign it."