Waited for Her Love in Vain

When I finally locate my wife, Annabelle Suther, she happens to be nuzzling against a man. There are freshly used condoms littering around them as well.

That's when I recall the social media post made by Annabelle's best friend.

"Anna is happy once again!"

In the photo, Annabelle can be seen kissing a man with her arms around him as they stand in the center of a heart formed by roses.

I've left a comment there. "Make sure to use protection."

Annabelle, who has always gone against every word I say, actually takes my advice very seriously this time.

I pointed at the condom on the floor and demanded an explanation from my wife, Annabelle Suther, yet she simply replied, "Isn't it just some milk? You country bumpkin, everyone does it like this nowadays!"

Her friend chimed in, "That's right! This is the trendy new way of drinking milk! You just don't get it!"

In reply, I scoffed. "Then how about you drink it in front of me right now?"

Annabelle's embarrassment turned to fury, and she came over to land a solid slap on my cheek. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

The sting on my cheek seemed to clear the fog in my head. For once, my mind was clear.

At that moment, the man beside Annabelle gently took her hand in his. Shooting me a challenging smile, he said, "Anna, don't be mad anymore. You'll only hurt your hand."

Bernard Lintell's soothing words calmed Annabelle down a little, but she still waved an impatient hand at me to shoo me away. "If you leave right now, I won't hold you accountable for ruining my fun!"

I took in the disdainful look in her eyes and felt a wave of pity for myself.

Today was Annabelle's birthday. In order to make her happy, I had booked out the most lavish restaurant in the city and prepared a diamond ring worth tens of millions of dollars.

However, not only had she not shown up despite agreeing to come, but she also hadn't even bothered to answer her phone.

I waited from six in the evening until eleven at night, at which point even the waiters began shooting me odd looks.

It wasn't until I saw her best friend's Instagram post that I learned she was at a bar, celebrating Bernard's birthday.

Worried about her safety, I had rushed over as quickly as I could, only to encounter such a sight.

Not once had she ever appreciated anything I did for her. In fact, she even went as far as to accuse me of restraining her freedom.

In that case, I would let her go to pursue that so-called freedom of hers!

"Fine. I'll give you the freedom you've been wishing for."

With a sneer, I spun and left without another backward glance.

Annabelle hadn't expected that I would just walk off like that instead of continuing to cajole her in a low, submissive tone. Confused and somewhat frustrated, she returned to the private room and threw herself into drinking.

By the time I returned home, I was beyond exhausted.

I was fast asleep when I heard a sound at my bedroom door.

Upon opening my eyes, I was greeted by Annabelle's infuriated expression as she charged over to me, reeking of alcohol. She demanded harshly, "Camden Goodman, didn't you see me drinking just now? Why didn't you prepare some hangover remedy for me beforehand?"

Annabelle had always had a low alcohol tolerance, so every time she got drunk in the past, I would have some hangover remedy waiting for her.

Every single time, I would have to coax her into drinking it, and she would always hit me and scold me. She would either complain about it tasting too bitter or lash out at me for being a busybody. A few days ago, she even smacked the bowl aside and told me not to give it to her anymore.

Yet, now that I was doing as she wished, she was displeased with me.

The swelling on my cheek hadn't even gone down yet. Slowly getting out of bed, I calmly looked at her and said, "I was waiting for you the whole night, which completely exhausted me. If you need a hangover remedy, you can make it yourself."

It seemed like Annabelle hadn't expected me to be that cold and distant, as by this point, I would usually be apologizing and begging for her forgiveness.

She opened her mouth, about to say something more, but then she realized that she was at the disadvantage here. Rolling her eyes at me, she left the room while muttering, "You're the one who decided to wait for me the whole night. It's not like I told you to. What's that got to do with me?"

There were some shuffling sounds outside the door before Annabelle entered again. She tossed a plastic container at me.

Glancing down, I saw that it was a seafood risotto that had been stirred into a disgusting mess, looking like something made from kitchen waste. It was utterly revolting.

She pursed her lips and pointedly avoided eye contact with me. "I don't have a habit of ruining other people's good moods, unlike you. I know you didn't have dinner, so I deliberately got you this."

For a moment, I was stunned.

We had known each other for seven years and had been married for three. In those ten years, she still hadn't realized that I was allergic to seafood.

Meeting her smug gaze, I said placidly, "I can't eat this."

In the past, I cherished everything she gave me. Even if it was a random wildflower she had plucked from the roadside, I would still carefully preserve it.

Hence, my current attitude was something she wasn't used to, and it left her at a loss.

At last, she couldn't help but resort to anger. "What's wrong with you? I got you some risotto out of the kindness of my heart, and you're refusing it? Camden, are you even a man? How could you be so petty? Are you seriously still angry with me right now?"

My temples throbbed with pain at her shrill shrieking. I explained softly, "It's not that I'm refusing your gesture, but that I can't eat—"

However, before I could finish, she cut me off. "Don't try to placate me with lousy excuses!"