Chapter 4

The nurse came over just then.

"Sir, how are you feeling? Any better?"

Suspicion had already crept into Marissa's eyes.

"What happened to my husband?"

"Oh, so you're his wife? He was just—"

I cut in.

"I ran too fast earlier and felt sick. This nurse happened to help me out, that's all."

Marissa still didn't quite believe it.

She pointed at the report in my hand.

"Is that our baby's test?"

I crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trash can in the corner.

"No," I said softly. "I found it on the floor. Some people have no manners. They just litter."

"Oh. I see."

Marissa's eyes filled with guilt, and she hugged me tight again.

"I'm sorry, Gideon. I shouldn't have left you, and I definitely shouldn't have sent you out for some stupid coffee."

I tried to wriggle out of her arms.

"I'm fine now. You don't have to worry about me."

But Marissa only held on tighter.

"You're the person I love most. How could I not worry?"

The person she loved most?

I laughed coldly to myself. If she loved me so much, why was she cheating on me?

"Really, I'm fine. People are walking by, and everyone's staring. Let go."

Marissa rested her chin on top of my head and nuzzled it gently.

"Let them stare. Haven't they ever seen a happy couple?"

Not far away, the nurse looked completely lost.

Maybe she couldn't understand why, when my wife so obviously loved me and worried about me, I was cold as ice.

But there was no shortage of stories outside the maternity ward. She'd seen plenty, and she knew when to keep quiet.

I was afraid that if I stayed at the hospital much longer, I'd give myself away sooner or later, so I said I wanted to go home.

Marissa agreed at once.

On the way to the parking lot, her phone lit up.

"Looks like someone's trying to reach you," I said.

Marissa switched off the screen.

"Work stuff. Nothing important. I'm taking you home first."

On the drive, her phone rang.

The caller ID showed only a string of numbers, no name.

Marissa frowned and complained.

"These people are useless. They call me over every little thing."

I smiled.

"What if it's important? Pick up. I'll put it on speaker for you."

Marissa blocked my hand as I reached for her phone.

"No need, Gideon," she said softly. "It's nothing serious. If you're tired, rest. I'll wake you when we get home."

Then she turned her phone off completely.

When we got home, Marissa helped me to the bedroom, laid me down on the bed carefully, and tucked the blanket around me.

She bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"Gideon, get some good sleep. I'm going to swing by the office. I'll be back by the time you wake up, and we'll have dinner together tonight, okay?"

I nodded.

She kissed me again.

"That's my guy."

After she left, I waited a while.

Once I saw her car pull away through the floor-to-ceiling window, I turned on the home computer.

Marissa had never been on guard around me. The home computer didn't even have a password. As soon as it booted up, her messaging app logged in automatically.

A familiar profile picture nearly stabbed me in the eyes.

A Wolverine avatar. Elliot's account.

And the name Marissa had saved him under was "Bad Dog."

[Bad Dog: Master, I'm aching for you...]

A photo came with it.

Elliot had pulled up the hem of his shirt to show off his eight-pack.

He'd even calculatingly worn low-rise pants, and the outline beneath them was impossible to miss.

Two minutes later, a voice message popped up.

I knew Marissa's voice better than anyone's. I recognized it instantly.

[Marissa: Didn't we already do it in the stairwell this afternoon? You want more?]

[Bad Dog: Next week you're going on that cruise with Gideon. That's at least two weeks without you. Master, who's going to take care of me while you're gone...]

[Marissa: Hahaha, fine. I'll come over right now and give you an advance on your compensation, hmm?]

[Bad Dog: Hehe, then you'd better make it two weeks' worth all at once~]

[Marissa, through gritted teeth: Just you wait!]

I exported every one of their chats and saved them to the cloud.

Texts, photos, voice messages. All of it.

When I was done, I made an appointment on my phone to go change my name the next day.

Elliot had gotten one thing right: a scumbag and a slut belonged together.

I had my own self-respect and pride, and I couldn't be bothered to tangle with them. A messy fight would only give gossiping onlookers a juicy, trashy drama to watch. It would do nothing for me.

What I needed to do was cut my losses and move on.

I took out my phone, opened the provincial services app, and booked an appointment for the next morning.