3

In the middle of the night, Wynn, who was lying beside me, called out softly, "Suzy.

"Suzy, are you asleep?"

With no response from me for a while, he quietly got out of bed.

He stepped onto the balcony, braving the cold wind as he made a phone call.

"Why aren't you sleeping yet? It’s already so late at night.

"I know, but the divorce isn't as straightforward as you might think.

"You’re a good girl. I'll handle it properly."

Just a wall away.

My husband, who professed his love and pity for me, was now gently reassuring his mistress.

"Alright, go to sleep. I'll come see you early tomorrow morning, okay?"

Wynn's voice, filled with helplessness and indulgence, trickled into my ears one after another.

"You really can't bear to have me out of your sight for even a moment."

He had said similar words to me before.

My mother, a government employee with old-fashioned conservative values. When I was born, she had hoped for a son, believing it would win back the heart with my father, who often strayed. However, things didn't turn out as she had expected: I was her second daughter.

So, my mother never liked me from a young age.

When I was five years old, my mother was fired from her job and lost her steady source of income.

Whenever her husband was at home, he demanded money. Raising our two daughters required money for everything, so we had no choice but to take over a small shop to barely make ends meet.

As I grew older, it seemed like my mother found fault with me at every turn.

When I was 19 years old, I had a big argument with my mom. I was punished to stand outside the house in the freezing cold, the biting wind chilling me to the bone. I was so numb that when I heard Wynn's voice, I thought I was hallucinating.

"Suzy."

I looked up, and there he stood, panting heavily, with red eyes. His eyes moved over the clear slap marks on my face and my frozen, reddened hands, filled with a mix of sorrow and compassion.

"From now on, I won't bear to let you out of my sight for even a moment."

Now, circumstances had shifted, and that person had changed. I stared blankly at the man outside the window.

Wynn seemed to realize something, turned around, and locked eyes with me, sitting on the bed inside.

For a moment, his body seemed extremely rigid, frozen in place.

"Suzy, why are you awake?"

I still maintained my blank expression, my voice hoarse as I asked, "Wynn, who were you talking to on the balcony in the middle of the night?"

He quickly put away his phone and approached me.

"It was Daniel. There was an issue with the bid proposal, and I was discussing it with them. Did I wake you?"

His expression and tone were so natural and flawless.

These false excuses seemed as if they had been rehearsed countless times, effortlessly rolling off his tongue.