Chapter 4
Husband cheated novel Part 4
Days bled into each other. After leaving, Adrian did not go home for several days and I did not bother to ask where he went.
On the third day, my phone screen flickered with a message from him. He said that he was on a business trip and shared his location. [Okay, stay safe,] I typed. A sardonic chuckle escaped my lips.
Just after sending the reply, a picture Sophie posted on Twitter taunted me from my feed. The caption read, [First holiday in what seems like forever. I never thought I’d miss cotton candy! Someone insisted on buying it for me.]
The accompanying picture showed Adrian’s hand, with our wedding ring still on his finger. Moreover, the location on Sophie’s tweet matched the one Adrian had sent me.
The ring on my own finger felt like a searing ember, so I took it off and threw it into the drawer. Since then, work became my refuge. I busied myself to push aside the churning emotion within. When Adrian would return became a question lost in the whirlwind of activity, a question I no longer cared to answer.
Unexpectedly, he came to the hospital one day to pick me up after my shift. A wave of surprise washed over me as I saw a familiar car parked across the street.
“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. That day was particularly exhausting.
“Did you forget that today is our wedding anniversary?” he answered after opening the door for me.
“Oh,” I mumbled, “sorry. I’ve been really busy and it slipped my mind.”
“Madeline, you used to care about this the most, didn’t you? How could you forget?” Adrian was stunned for a moment before replying.
In the past, whether it was a wedding anniversary or his birthday, I never forgot. Dinners meticulously planned, decorations painstakingly chosen, all fueled by a need to celebrate and enjoy our time together, to show him how much he meant to me. But, those efforts, once met with smiles and anticipation, were later dismissed as “over the top” and “embarrassing.”
I still remembered his words when I decided to throw a surprise party in a restaurant. He said, “Madeline, you’re making such a big deal out of this. Everyone’s looking at us. It’s very uncomfortable, you know?”
I thought he would be happy, but instead, he dragged me away in front of colleagues and friends. So, now, there was really nothing to celebrate. The spark had died out.
“Come on, let’s go have dinner and celebrate,” he said, ushering me into the car.
As Adrian drove, the silence stretched between us. He stole glances at me, searching my face for a flicker of the old enthusiasm.
“Madeline, what’s wrong? Are you upset?” he finally blurted out.
“No.” I shook my head.
“No?” he echoed, his voice rising in frustration. “Then why the attitude? Here I am, putting in the effort, picking you up for dinner. Can’t you at least pretend to appreciate it?” “I’m not angry, Adrian.”
“Fine!” He let out a long sigh. “I promise, no more contact with Sophie again, Okay?”
I stared at him. Did he really think a simple gesture could erase months of lies and betrayal? “Are you happy now?” he asked again.
I did not answer and remain silent for the rest of trip. The car drove all the way to a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Adrian had gone all out, reserving a table and even arranging for flowers and a gift. The scene was a picture of romantic bliss, complete with envious glances from other diners. However, before I opened the gift, Adrian’s phone rang.
“Fever? Do you have any medicine?” he asked, answering the call. “I can’t take you to the hospital today, I have something to do. What? That high? Okay, wait for me. I’ll be right over.” Hanging up, Adrian turned to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of awkwardness and something I could not quite decipher. “Madeline, it’s Sophie. Her child has a fever. I need to….” I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat. “It’s fine,” I managed, my voice a monotone that surprised even me. “You should go. The child’s important.”
He stood up and hesitated for a moment before looking at me again. “Wait for me to come back and pick you up. I’ll be back soon.” With that, he hurriedly grabbed his coat and left.
I was left alone, staring at the half–eaten cake. Rain lashed against the windowpanes, mimicking the tears I refused to shed. After a sigh, I finished the cake, then got up and left.
A cab passed by and I hailed it to go home. However, I did not bring an umbrella, and there was still a bit of a walk from the entrance to our apartment building. The drizzle hit my face, making it very cold.
After I got in and took a shower, I saw Sophie’s tweet with a picture. It was Adrian accompanying her and her child. The warm yellow light in their room was a stark contrast to the coldness of the rain outside.
