2

When Wynn heard I was hungry, Xu Yan would set aside his current work and get busy in the kitchen.

Watching his bustling figure, everything remained just as it had been before.

We've known each other for many years.

I've always had complete trust in him.

And he did the same way with me.

Even though I never checked or snooped around, he never guarded against me.

He didn’t even put a password on his phone.

I retrieved his phone from the coat pocket he left on the couch.

The screen lit up, and with a swipe, I was on the phone interface.

As the CEO of the company, no one would dare to touch his phone.

So, when it came to this affair, he didn't think about concealing anything.

The chat records were glaringly evident before my eyes, filled with the ambiguous traces between him and that girl.

The young girl's name was Lucy Lane. She majored in dance at a prestigious art academy, and she was a whole eight years younger than me.

Because of a family disagreement, she left home, and Wynn kindly arranged for her to have her own apartment close to her school, along with a car for her convenience.

Lucy had a fondness for the unique desserts in City B. Even though Wynn was tired from his business trip, he made an extra effort to stand in line and purchase them for her.

She plated the desserts beautifully, took meticulous photos, and sent them over, saying, "These are so delicious, I love them. Didn't you buy some for your wife?"

Wynn replied, "No, she doesn't like these overly sweet things."

Upon hearing this, Lucy seemed a bit unhappy, saying, "So, you're implying that I'm childish, and I enjoy this sweet stuff?"

“You’re a childishly adorable.”

Every single word and sentence struck me deeply. It was revealed that on my birthday last year, Wynn hurried to the office for work, leaving me all by myself to take care of the bedridden Lucy.

During the Lunar New Year trip we planned well in advance, Wynn suddenly left me alone in another province due to an emergency. It was because Lucy had been in a car accident and insisted on seeing him, crying and causing a scene.

As I scrolled down, my fingers on the screen grew weak. It had been a long time since she had subtly infiltrated every aspect of both Wynn's and my life.

I suppressed the pain in my heart and scrolled to the bottom. It was this morning before Wynn came back.

"I should have mentioned this earlier, but a woman called for you last night, and I picked up," Lucy admitted openly. "When are you planning to get a divorce? I can't handle these days of secrecy. It's painful for me to imagine both of you sharing a room and sleeping in the same bed.

"Just the thought of you being with me all the time, belonging only to me, makes me so happy."

She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was shamelessly bold.

And the last message in their chat, right before Wynn entered the house, was his response:

"I'll talk to her as soon as I can. You'll have to bear with this for a while."

Bear with it? You two are really something.

My heart stirred, and I quietly saved a backup of the chat records and transferred it to my phone.

When Wynn called out to me to come and eat, I had just finished the transfer.

I placed my phone back in its original position and responded, "Coming."

The dishes on the table were all Mexican cuisine, which I enjoyed, but Wynn couldn't handle the spice.

Every time we ate together, he seemed determined to wash it all down with water.

In the past, I used to think he adored me, that he was considerate in every way and only wanted to see me happy.

Now looking back, it was just self-deception.

If he couldn't handle the spice, why didn't he just make some milder dishes for himself instead of suffering through the spicy ones with me?

Seeing my low spirits, Wynn poured water and took a moment to ask, "What's wrong? Is it not tasty?"

I shook my head. "No, it's just that I suddenly lost my appetite."

"Is it because you're still upset about last night?

"With the recent workload at the company and all the bidding, there have been more things on my mind, and I may have unintentionally neglected my Suzy."

I squeezed my hand tightly, burying my face in my bowl to hide any signs of losing control, exerting all my strength to make my tone sound as usual.

"It's nothing."

"Why have you started wearing perfume lately?"

"I never—"

He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence.

Indeed, he never wore perfume, but his charming Lucy did.

As if he remembered something, he suddenly lowered his head, running his fork over the dishes on the table, as if carefully considering what to serve me.

After selecting one, he paused over a plate of pulled pork, picked up a piece, and placed it in my bowl before casually responding, "It's probably Lisa's. We work together every day, and maybe some of it rubbed off on me."

Lisa Taylor was Wynn's assistant, 46 years old, and a mother of two. Using a youthful fragrance?

The excuse was so flimsy that I didn't want to engage further.

Wynn kept his head down, staring at the dining table, his long and thick eyelashes concealing all his emotions.

We remained silent, our meal tasteless.