Chapter 3

From that moment on, every last shred of denial vanished into thin air. Natalie was unequivocally, undeniably cheating on me.

And her lover was none other than the head of the hospital.

I felt sick to my stomach, completely unable to wrap my head around it.

People usually slept with the clinic director to climb the corporate ladder, but knowing Natalie, she was never that kind of woman.

What had drawn me to her in the first place wasn't just her stunning looks, but her warmth, her kindness, and her gentle nature.

She had never been someone who chased after wealth or social status; otherwise, she wouldn't have picked an ordinary guy like me out of all her wealthy suitors years ago.

As a respected physician, she earned a very comfortable living, more than enough to cover all her needs and desires.

Even if she quit tomorrow, my own tech salary could easily support our comfortable lifestyle.

Why would she throw away our happy marriage just to sleep with a wrinkled man in his late fifties?

Had her gentle, devoted persona been nothing more than an elaborate act? Was the deceitful woman on that restricted floor her true self all along?

When I finally got back to our apartment, I collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Memories of our years together played on an endless, torturous loop in my head. I tried desperately to force them out, but Natalie's face was burned into my mind like a brand.

I buried my head deep into a throw pillow, letting the suffocating tide of heartbreak drown me.

Minutes bled into hours. I felt neither hunger nor thirst, lying paralyzed in the dark until night completely fell.

Deep into the night, the faint click of a key turning in the front door snapped me back to reality.

The living room lights flicked on. Shielding my eyes against the blinding glare, I made out the figure standing by the entryway. It was Natalie.

"Babe? Why are you lying in the dark on the couch? Are you feeling sick?"

As she spoke, she stepped closer, reaching a hand out to feel my forehead.

Seeing her standing there, the fury I had been bottling up inside erupted like a volcano.

I slapped her arm away with a sharp crack, glaring at her with venom. "Don't touch me! Why the hell are you back?"

If I hadn't witnessed her infidelity with my own eyes, I would have fallen for her fake concern all over again, kept completely in the dark.

I had always cherished and spoiled her. In all our years together, we had never had a real blowout fight; I had never even raised my voice at her.

And for what? All my devotion had been thrown to the dogs, paid back with betrayal and shameless lies.

Natalie clearly hadn't expected such hostility from me. She bit her lip, her eyebrows knitting together, her eyes instantly brimming with tears in a fragile, heartbroken display.

"Honey, what's wrong with you today? Did something happen at work?"

"You called earlier and hung up so suddenly. I was worried sick about you, so I cleared my schedule and rushed home from the clinic."

I cut her off with a bitter sneer.

"Cut the act. You know damn well why I'm pissed off."

Natalie's eyes turned red. She reached out, trying to take my hand, pleading softly, "Why are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?"

I shoved her hands away, shouting at the top of my lungs, "Don't touch me! You make me sick! Did you really think I wouldn't find out about the filthy things you're doing with your director?!"

At those words, Natalie's face drained of every ounce of color.