Chapter 1

Noticing that something was amiss, I decided to continue the conversation with my wife, Lydia Cooper.

"Is that so? You were smiling so warmly just now," I said.

Lydia averted her gaze, not daring to make eye contact with me.

"The child speaks so sweetly. She's very fond of calling me. Anyway, it's getting late. Let's sleep."

She didn't wait for me to respond before turning around and entering the bathroom.

Lydia and I had been together for a decade, so I was familiar with her microexpressions. The way she averted her eyes earlier made it clear that she was feeling guilty.

I was already lying in bed and pretending to sleep when the bathroom door creaked open.

Lydia gently crawled into bed and hugged me from behind as usual. However, her embrace felt completely unfamiliar that night.

I waited until her breathing turned even before carefully getting out of bed and picking up her phone that she had left on the bedside cabinet.

We had been together for a decade, but this was the first time I was going to go through her phone. A bitter sensation spread through me as I tapped into her chatting app.

Lydia's lists of chats were neat and orderly. My chat with her was pinned at the top, along with the family group chat and her work chat.

However, I was certain that she was hiding something. I navigated through the app until I found her locked chats. As expected, there was a chat that was named "Lindsey's Growth Diary."

I needed a password to access its history. I tried keying in her birthday, my birthday, and the date of our wedding anniversary, but none of them worked. In the end, I randomly typed in that day's date—0101.

My breath hitched when the password was accepted.

There was a collection of photos in the chat.

I tapped into a photo of a young girl holding a card with "Happy New Year" printed on it. She was smiling so wide that her eyes had crinkled into crescents. She was also clutching a box with a doll nestled inside.

The caption that was attached to the photo read, "Mommy's New Year's present for Lindsey. She was so happy that she started jumping for joy."

I continued scrolling through the chat.

In October, there was a photo that was captioned, "Lindsey's fifth birthday. Mommy promised to bring us to the beach."

In August, it read, "Lindsey's first parent-teacher conference. Mommy looked so beautiful in her suit."

In May, the text was, "Lindsey fell sick. Mommy kept vigil by her side the entire night."

The earliest photo was sent five years ago, showing a newborn's feet.

"Our princess was born at 6.8 pounds. Mommy cried her eyes out."

It turned out that Lydia wasn't opposed to the idea of being a mother. After all, she had already experienced motherhood.

I recalled how she had told me that she wanted to spend the rest of our lives with just the two of us.

Did she take me for a fool?

I placed Lydia's phone back on the bedside cabinet and crawled back into bed, keeping my eyes open until dawn broke on the horizon.

I pretended everything was normal, then got out of bed to freshen up and change into a clean set of clothes.

That morning played out just like any other.

However, right after Lydia left the house, I got into my car and tailed her. She drove along several winding roads before finally stopping in a residential area.

I took a deep breath and was just about to ring the doorbell when I heard the sounds of a child's laughter coming from inside the house. A few seconds later, an amused and masculine voice said, "Stop messing around, Lindsey. Hurry up and put away the present that Mommy got you for the New Year."

I felt as if the blood in my veins had turned to ice.

Mommy?

My hand was suspended in midair. I didn't get to ring the doorbell before another voice resounded from beyond the door.

It was a voice that I was incredibly familiar with—Lydia's voice.

"Alright. I promise that I'll bring you to the amusement park next week," she said affectionately.

I leaned my back against the icy wall and slowly slid down until I was sitting on the floor.

My phone slipped from my grasp and tumbled to the floor. The screen cracked, mirroring the state of my heart.

I took a deep breath before getting back up on my feet and finally ringing the doorbell.

A tiny head poked out when the door inched open. It was the same girl I had seen in the photos last night. She looked at me curiously before yelling, "Daddy, there's someone at the door!"

In the next second, a man I hadn't been expecting at all appeared. It was Simon Young, my university roommate.

He halted his footsteps when he was standing right in front of me, saying, "What a coincidence, Jasper. How did you find out that I'm staying here?"

"Tell Lydia to come out," I said softly.

A dead silence descended upon the living room.

Simon frowned before moving to block the doorway. "Lydia? Why would she be here? You're looking for her in the wrong place."

He paused before continuing in a low and warning tone, "There's a child here. There's no need to cause a scene."

As we stared at each other, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the living room.

"Please give me a chance to explain, Jasper," Lydia said in a trembling voice as she walked toward us.

I felt nothing but disgust as I looked at her hypocritical face.