After Betrayal, I Married a Billionaire

"Alex, does the color of this dress still leave you spellbound?"

I twirled in front of the large mirror that reflected my own image. This maroon silk felt so soft against my skin, hugging my curves perfectly. Outside, the Australian snow has begun to fall, wrapping the tree branches in a cold white hue, but inside this room, I’ve turned on the heater until the air feels so cozy. I want tonight to be an unforgettable night. Five years of marriage isn’t a short time, and I still love that man with the same thrill as when her first proposed to me under the drizze rain.

I hear the door open. Those footsteps I know so well sound heavy, steps on the thick plush carpet. I smile widely, turning with sparkling eyes.

“You’re home already? I was just thinking you’d be stuck in traffic because of the snow.”

Alex doesn’t answer right away. He sets his brief case on the chair, then loose his tie with a rough-looking motion. His handsome face looked stiff, lines of exhaustion clearly etched there, but there was something else. Something unusual.

“Yeah, the roads were terrible,” he replied curtly. His voice was flat, lacking the warmth that usually accompanied his greetings.

I stepped closer, trying to ignore the strange feeling creeping into my chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting my body lean against his broad chest, still covered by his work shirt. “Happy anniversary, Honey. You remember, right?”

Alex fell silent for a moment. His hand rose, but didn’t wrap around my waist. He merely patted my shoulder twice—a gesture more like comforting a friend than caressing a wife. “Of course I remember, Emma. How could I possibly forget?”

“I’ve prepared something,” I whispered, ignoring his stiffness. I pulled his hand toward the nightstand, where two crystal glasses were neatly lined up next to an unopened bottle of red wine. “We can toast for a moment, then I’ll order dinner from your favorite restaurant. How about it?”

"I'm so tired tonight," he said softly. He stared at the crystal glass without interest, as if those expensive objects were just a pile of ordinary, meaningless glass.

"Just one glass, Alex. To celebrate our five-year anniversary." I picked up the wine bottle and poured it slowly. The sound of the liquid falling into the glass echoed loudly in the silence of the room. I handed him a glass, looking deeply into his eyes. “I’ve missed you all day.”

Alex took the glass, but didn’t drink from it. He just stared at the red liquid inside with a blank expression. “Emma, don’t you think tonight is a little over the top?”

I furrowed my brow, trying to find a trace of humor on his face. “Over the top? It’s our special day. I’m even wearing the floral perfume you like best. Can’t you smell it?”

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. I let the sweet scent waft out, touching his skin. I wanted him to feel my presence, to be the Alex who would usually turn off the lights and pull me into his embrace. I touched his strong jawline, gently stroking it with my thumb.

Alex looked at me. For a moment, I saw a spark in his eyes. His hand moved to touch my cheek; his fingers felt warm, and I was ready to close my eyes, waiting for the kiss I’d been longing for since this morning.

But just before his lips touched my forehead, Alex pulled his hand back. He set the still-full glass down on the table with a loud clink. He took a step back, letting the cold air from the window seem to seep between us.

“Stop it, Emma. I don’t want to do this.”

I froze. My hand was still hanging in the air, empty. “What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he replied, turning his back to me. He began unbuttoning his shirt one by one; his movements were calm, yet they felt excruciatingly painful to me.

“Then why? We’re never like this, Alex. I’ve prepared everything. I want us to…”

"You’re not the same anymore, Emma."

The words just slipped out of his mouth, sharp and cold. I felt as if I’d just been doused with ice water in the middle of winter. I stared at his sturdy back, trying to process his words. "Not the same anymore? What does that mean? I’m still the same Emma, your wife."

Alex turned around, looking at me with a gaze I couldn’t quite decipher. There was a sense of weariness lurking there, something I’d been trying to mask with positive thoughts all this time. “What I mean is, you don’t excite me anymore. I see you, but I don’t feel that urge anymore. Please, don’t make me pretend tonight. It’s exhausting.”

I felt my chest tighten, as if the oxygen supply in this room had suddenly vanished. I clenched the hem of the silk lingerie I was wearing; the fabric that had once made me feel beautiful now felt like a ridiculous, embarrassing costume. “You’re saying this on our anniversary? You’re saying I don’t excite you?”

“I just want to be honest. Isn’t honesty important?” Alex walked over to the closet, grabbing a casual house shirt as if this conversation wasn’t shattering my heart into tiny pieces.

“But why, Alex? Is it because of my body? Is it because I’m not attractive enough?” My voice began to tremble. I tried to hold back the tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.

"It’s not about the physical stuff, Emma. It’s just… it feels stale. Five years, and everything feels like a boring routine to me." He put on his T-shirt, then glanced at me. "I need some time alone. Maybe I’ll be a little busy over the next few days."

I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling like my legs could no longer support my weight. “Alex, what’s really going on? You’ve changed so quickly. Yesterday you were still hugging me before leaving for work.”

Alex let out a long sigh. He sat in his office chair, staring out the window at the snow falling heavier and heavier. “My first love is coming to this city tomorrow. She’s returning to Australia.”

My world felt like it had stopped spinning. I stared at the side profile of his face, which looked so calm as he said that. “Your first love? The woman you’ve often told me about?”

“Yes. She’s coming back, and it’s making me think about a lot of things. Including us, Emma. I need some space to figure out what I really want in this life.”

I fell silent. No words could come out of my throat. It felt like a huge rock was blocking it. Alex stood up, didn’t look back at me, then walked toward the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower first. Go to sleep first; don’t wait for me. I need some space to figure out what I really want out of life."

The bathroom door closed, leaving behind the sound of trickling water that felt so torturous to my ears. I hugged myself, shivering not because of the cold snow, but because of the coldness of the man I’d praised to the heavens all this time. How could he be so heartless? Insulting my appeal, then mentioning another woman on a night that should’ve been ours?

I stared at the wine bottle still standing upright on the nightstand. Its contents were still deep red, just like the wound he’d just carved into my heart. Suddenly, a vibration rippled across the wooden surface of the nightstand. Alex’s phone, lying there, lit up, casting a bright glow in the dimly lit room.

I never check his phone. Not even once. For me, trust is the foundation of everything. But tonight, my hand moved on its own. The suspicion that had been buried deep inside me suddenly rose to the surface.

I reached for the phone.

On the screen, a string of numbers appearance without a name. A text message came in, but then the phone vibrated again. There was an incoming call from the same number. With trembling hands, I tapped the green icon. I didn’t say a word; I just held the phone to my ear.

“Alex? Are you home yet?”

That voice. A woman’s voice that sounded so soft, sweet, and full of longing. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump right out of my chest.

“Alex, why are you so quiet? Which hotel are you going to tonight? I can’t wait. I’ll be waiting for you, Honey! I miss you so much!”

A stiff breath escaped my nose. I recognized this voice. I knew it very well. The voice that often greeted me with cheerful laughter every time we got together. The voice that often praised how lucky I was to have a husband like Alex.

"Hello? Alex? Can you hear me?"

I hung up the phone with a quick motion. The phone nearly slipped from my grasp. My whole body was shaking violently, and the tears I’d been holding back all this time finally fell, wetting my cheeks, dripping right onto the maroon silk that now felt repulsive.