Chapter 1

A once-in-a-decade torrential rainstorm hit Ashville.

After work, my colleagues gradually left one by one, leaving me to work overtime.

Joanne Sanders texted me, "The rain is really coming down. I'll come pick you up."

I knew she was trying to make peace.

Last Saturday was our wedding anniversary. I had booked a restaurant, but she never showed up.

I waited at the restaurant until closing time before I saw that Philip Wyatt had posted on Instagram. In the photo, Joanne's profile was gentle and graceful.

The caption read, "I had such a happy birthday this year. Thanks, Joanne, for buying me dinner."

When I got home, I pulled up the photo and confronted Joanne.

But she simply pushed my hand away with an irritated air.

"Philip's out here on his own on his birthday. I'm his boss—what's the problem with me showing a little concern? Quit trying to stir up trouble! It's not like our anniversary only comes around once."

Sure. An anniversary came every year. But so did a birthday.

The cold war between us started the next day, and today marked the tenth day.

In the past, I was always the one trying every way to reconcile with her. If she'd ever initiated a conversation with me like this, I would've been overjoyed and flattered.

But now, I felt nothing and simply replied, "Okay."

We agreed on 6:00 pm. Parking wasn't convenient in front of the office building, so I walked briskly to the bus stop.

By 9:00 pm, the rain was growing heavier. Even though I was standing under a billboard, the hem of my trousers was still soaked by the downpour.

Yet, Joanne still hadn't shown up.

I unlocked my phone to book a ride, but then I noticed a special follow alert at the top.

I tapped it open and saw that Philip had posted a photo not long ago, captioned, "Thank you, Joanne, for giving me a ride home."

In the photo was a familiar center console. There were only two of this limited-edition car model in Ashville, with one of them belonging to Joanne.

Hanging from the rearview mirror was a visor clip I got last year at a mountain chapel.

When I hung it up, Joanne had complained, "This thing is so ugly and doesn't match my car at all."

Only after I pleaded repeatedly did she reluctantly agree.

Thinking of this, I suddenly felt a sense of relief and liked the post.

Joanne probably wasn't coming. The ride-hailing app said there were over 100 people ahead of me.

I looked at myself and saw there wasn't much dry spot left on my clothes, so I turned and headed toward the shared bikes.

When I got home, Joanne still hadn't returned.

Although I quickly showered and took some cold medicine, I still felt a bit dizzy before going to sleep.

In a dazed state, I was awakened by the sound of the door being opened.

Joanne was back. She probably wasn't expecting that I'd go to sleep without waiting for her, so she walked over and stood in front of the bed.

I felt her gaze resting on me. But because I was truly feeling uncomfortable, I paid her no attention.

A moment later came the sound of departing footsteps, followed by the noise of her washing up in the bathroom.

The faint noise was quite hypnotic, and I drifted back into a groggy sleep.

When the alarm went off the next day, my head was still spinning, so I couldn't turn it off immediately.

Joanne clicked her tongue in annoyance, which fully jolted me awake.

I had a fever, and my head ached terribly. But I had to host a very important meeting today, so I had no choice but to drag my heavy body through the morning routine and head to work.