My Husband Cheated on Me, And His Girlfriend Murdered Me

"It's gonna be tough identifying the victim, Captain Hawkins," Garet said, his voice reflecting the seriousness of the situation.

"Yeah, Mr. Collins," replied Sebert Hawkins, a seasoned captain in the police department at 45 years old. He had seen his fair share of grim scenes over the years, and this was right up there—an investigator's worst nightmare. Apart from the challenge of solving the case, there was always the hope it wouldn't turn out to be someone they knew, sparing them extra heartache.

Sebert gave clear instructions, "Mr. Wood, team up with the forensic doc. Figure out the gender and any other details from the body. Mr. Collins, gather evidence, check the CCTV, and chat with folks around here."

"Got it, Capt." Garet and Bernard Wood had worked together on plenty of cases, forming a kind of unspoken understanding. Even though Garet operated as a private eye while Sebert and Bernard were cops, their teamwork was spoton, resulting in a solid track record of solving cases. I stood nearby, nodding along, eager to see how they'd crack the case this time.

It was almost the end of July, still scorching hot. Garet's forehead and back were soaked with sweat, leaving a big damp spot on his shirt as he strolled along the pedestrian path near Silver Bridge.

Away from the hustle of cops, curious onlookers, and reporters, he moved around the spot where a cyclist had stumbled upon a hefty black plastic bag snagged on the riverbank earlier that day. I followed along, curious to see their investigative approach unfold.

The bag had been sitting there for a few days, just another piece of trash until the cyclist caught wind of an awful smell and a cloud of flies buzzing around it. That was the tipping point—he immediately dialed the police.

And there it was, the horrific discovery of a murder victim. The body was nearly charred beyond recognition, about 90% burnt. It was a real challenge; there were no personal items left behind, no fingerprints or obvious physical features to go on. The police were left with relying on forensic analysis, DNA, or dental records, but without a starting point, progress would be slow.

That was why the CCTV footage and witness accounts were crucial. Any odd sightings or unusual people nearby could be the key to unraveling the mystery.

The problem was, this spot was in an industrial area, quiet and mostly deserted, especially near the river. Garet noticed a group of female factory workers who seemed both curious and anxious about the situation.

"Wow, is the body really burned that badly? It's so scary!"

"Yeah, they say it's so bad that they can't even tell who it was. Makes me think twice about taking night shifts around here."

"Poor soul. How could something like this happen to them?"

"Wait, are you saying there might be more than one victim? That's insane!"

"No, I think the police are not sure if it's a man or a woman yet."

"My friend got a closer look and thinks it's probably a woman."

"Oh my god, this is nuts. I'm feeling really uneasy now. I'm calling my husband to come pick me up."

The conversation buzzed with concern and disbelief, reflecting the shock and fear rippling through the community as news of the grisly discovery spread.

Listening in on the women's conversation, Garet fell silent for a moment. I noticed him pull out his phone and dial someone. The name "[Livy]" flashed on the screen. After a while, the call still hadn't connected, and he grumbled in frustration, pressing the red button. "Why aren't you answering? Are you still mad? So dumb!"

I chuckled and teased, "You're the one being dumb." But his expression stayed serious.

We resumed walking, circling the area. Garet didn't glean much useful info from the locals, except that the place got pretty dark at night and was littered with abandoned buildings—prime conditions for foul play. Luckily, there were plenty of CCTVs around the factories and offices facing the riverbank, offering a glimmer of hope. If any of those cameras captured the culprit, it could crack the case wide open.

He scribbled down the names of buildings with potential CCTV coverage and called in some backup to start reviewing footage from a few days prior. Thirty minutes later, his team of ten investigators arrived. They split up efficiently, each pair tasked with combing through the CCTV footage and securing copies. With over twenty buildings to cover, it was a race against time.

By half past six, as the sky began to darken, they regrouped in the parking lot. "How's it going, team?" Garet inquired.

"We've checked ten facilities' CCTV from the day before the bag surfaced, but no luck so far. We did see the bag drifting with the water from the east, but there weren't many operational buildings in that direction," reported one of the investigators.

"Yeah, most of them were abandoned or still under construction. Only five offices seemed active," added another.

"Alright, let's wrap it up for today. We'll focus on those offices tomorrow. Did everyone manage to get copies of the footage, just in case?" Garet confirmed.

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

"Good, dismissed. See you tomorrow morning at 9 sharp!"

I watched as they headed to their cars, leaving Garet alone in the dimly lit parking lot. The police and crowd had cleared out earlier in the afternoon.

He grabbed his phone and dialed someone. "Bernard, any updates?" he asked as he leaned against his car.

"Yes and no," Bernard replied on the other end.

"What do you mean?" Garet's voice showed a hint of frustration.

"We've determined it's a woman, but we haven't uncovered any other details about the burned victim," Bernard explained.

"Alright, I reviewed some CCTV footage, but nothing significant yet. My team will comb through the eastern section of the industrial area tomorrow. I'll keep you posted," Garet said, making mental notes.

After exchanging a few more words, they ended the call. Garet got into his car and drove off in the direction of our house.

But instead of going straight home, the car made a detour and stopped in front of an apartment building. A strikingly beautiful girl stood at the gate in a tshirt, shorts, and a cardigan. Jane Dunne ran her fingers through her brunette hair before getting into the passenger seat. It used to be my place, but now I felt indifferent, just observing quietly from the backseat.

Jane fastened her seatbelt and glanced at the rearview mirror without saying a word. Then, she asked Garet to lower the AC as she felt chilly.

The drive resumed in silence, tension palpable in the air.

"Why did you ask me to come?" Garet started as he drove, his tone slightly strained.

"Nothing, I just wanted to talk. You've seemed so busy lately," Jane replied casually, prompting an eye roll from me in the backseat.

"If you know he's busy, why bother him?" I silently grumbled, growing more annoyed.

"Yeah, lots of work going on. Do you need anything?" Garet asked, trying to shift the conversation.

"Are you working on a new case?" Jane pressed further.

"You know I can't discuss work with anyone," Garet responded firmly.

"But I'm not just anyone, am I?" Jane shot back.

"Oh, just shut up!" I finally snapped, unable to tolerate the situation any longer. It was all becoming nauseating.

Garet slowed the car and eventually came to a stop. He turned to Jane, speaking in a quieter tone, "I need some peace right now. I didn't come here to argue."

After a brief pause, Garet continued driving and eventually pulled over at the same spot where he had picked Jane up earlier.

"I've been feeling a bit anxious lately. I was wondering if you could stay the night," Jane confessed, looking at Garet with her big, pleading eyes.

Garet smiled warmly and affectionately touched the top of her head. "Why? Is something bothering you?"

"No, nothing like that. I just can't stand being alone lately. It would be nice to have someone with me," she explained.

Garet seemed to understand and leaned over to kiss her forehead gently.

Feeling a wave of sickness in my stomach from witnessing this melodrama, I abruptly stormed out of the car without looking back. The wind was howling fiercely as I walked aimlessly through the dark night. It felt like an eternity before I finally arrived at what used to be our home. After only a few months entering our lives, that woman successfully ruined everything for me.

That's a few months.

"Can you hand me Ms. Hannah’s medical history? Her surgery’s tomorrow," I asked the new intern nurse, tapping my fingers on the table. "It’s Sophia Hannah, don’t mix it up, alright?" It was her first month here, and mistakes were becoming a bit of a pattern. I figured nerves were at play, so I tried to give her a gentle headsup. But delays in getting things right could really affect patient care.

I was juggling surgeries back to back, racing against the clock, so having extra help was crucial. The hospital assigned me an intern to assist with admin tasks. My office walls were lined with framed certificates—awards from internal recognitions to the Distinguished Service Award from the American Society of Anesthesiologists.

Eight years of education and two grueling years of residency had brought me here—a dedicated anesthesiologist with a high success rate. Overcoming doubts and the challenges of pursuing a specialized career wasn’t easy. Being a doctor, especially a specialist, demanded immense energy, time, and financial investment.

But with my strong determination and my mother’s unwavering support, I pushed forward. Raised by a single mother in a rural area, pursuing my dream meant she had to sell inherited land—the only asset we had besides our humble home. I was determined to repay her sacrifice, though she never asked for it.

Just then, my phone beeped—a call from Mom. "Hi, Mom," I greeted eagerly.

"Livia, why haven’t you been home this month? Do you even care about your old mother anymore?" she teased, straight to the point.

I chuckled, "Sorry, Mom, just swamped. Lots of surgeries, I’m wiped."

The conversation with Mom always reminded me of why I pushed myself so hard. It was for her, for us, and for the patients relying on me every day.

To which Mom replied, sounding concerned, “Don’t overwork yourself, Livia. Come home with Garet and spend some time in nature. Aren’t you tired of dealing with blood and flesh all the time?”

Since I moved to the city a decade ago, Mom and I barely saw each other—maybe twice every few months, mostly just catching up over the phone like now. I felt guilty and offered to have her come live with me and my husband, but she refused, saying she couldn’t stand the polluted air and noisy city life. All she really wanted was for us to give her a grandchild soon. She even joked about raising her in our quiet rural village if we were too busy with work.

There was one thing I hadn’t told her, though—Garet and I had been too caught up in our own lives to even think about having a child. We’d dated on and off for seven years before finally tying the knot three years ago.

Initially, our marriage was blissful and harmonious, but over time, our demanding jobs built a wall between us, brick by brick. We lost that spark, you know? Especially in the past month. My duties as an anesthesiologist had me working late into the night, often coming home at dawn, while Garet’s job as a private detective kept him just as occupied. He even had a small office with a bed, and he often ended up sleeping there.

We only managed to meet a few times a week, and even then, it was just in passing. “How’s work? Good?” and “Honey, sorry I’m tired,” were our usual exchanges. It felt more like being acquaintances than a married couple.

But no matter how exhausted I was, I always made sure to take care of Garet’s needs at home—cooking for him, laying out his clothes, and making his favorite black coffee in the mornings. I tried my best to be a good wife despite my hectic schedule.

Today was Sunday, my rare day off, so I asked Garet if he could take a break too. There was a moment of silence before he agreed. I planned to take him out for a meal, something we used to enjoy together.

I dressed in a casual midi dress adorned with cute cherry ornaments, chic yet ageappropriate. After a light touch of makeup and fixing my hair, I walked over to where he was waiting in the living room.

Eventually, Garet noticed my presence and glanced up. His expression remained stoic, but a very subtle smile played on his lips, and his eyes gave me a look of approval. After years together, I had learned to read his micro expressions—a skill he excelled in as a detective. It had proven useful on numerous occasions.

"Ready?" he asked, breaking the moment.

"Yeah, do you want to swing by the supermarket after lunch? I need to pick up a few things for Mom," I replied. It was noon, and we planned to enjoy a leisurely lunch followed by a stroll through the city park.

"Sure, why not?" Garet stood up from the sofa, and I followed suit. But just as we were about to head out to the car, my phone began to ring. I rolled my eyes in annoyance—it was a call from my colleague. I typically ignored work calls on my day off, but the frequency of missed calls suggested it might be urgent.

"Yeah?" I answered as soon as I picked up.

"Doc, sorry for bothering you. Can you come to the hospital? We can't locate a patient's file," my colleague explained.

"Why don’t you ask Miss Dunne? Isn't she on duty?" I suggested, Miss Dunne was my intern.

"We already did, but she doesn't know where it is," came the frustrating reply.

I sighed deeply. This was supposed to be a peaceful day off for me. "Okay, I'll be there. Just wait for me," I finally conceded, feeling a pang of disappointment. The senior nurse on the other end thanked me and hung up.

Garet glanced at me with concern. "Everything okay?"

"Work calls. Sorry, honey, can we swing by the hospital first? I’ll be quick," I replied apologetically, already feeling guilty about cutting short our time together. I wanted Garet to have a break from work today, but my mind was preoccupied with the office.

He nodded understandingly, and we got into the car, heading towards the hospital.

After about 20 minutes of driving, we arrived at the imposing Centra Medica Hospital, where I've been working. Its modern design spoke volumes about its prestige—it was recognized as the best hospital in the nation, attracting international patients seeking treatment for various illnesses.

Garet parked the red BMW, and we walked to my office. He waited outside while I entered, greeted by a trio of faces displaying a range of emotions—anger, confusion, and fear. The senior nurse who had called me earlier explained the situation. Once again, my intern had made a mistake, mixing up some files. Patient data had been swapped between doctors, causing a minor uproar. The immediate crisis was resolved, but I was frustrated.

The intern looked visibly scared, likely having faced reprimands before. I felt sympathy, but this couldn't continue. I asked the other two individuals to step out, leaving just the intern and me.

"Miss Dunne, I know you're still learning and have a lot ahead of you. But I need you to be more careful moving forward. If another mistake happens, I'll have to discuss transferring you from my department with the director," I said in the calmest tone I could muster, though her doeeyed expression tugged at my empathy.

"Okay, you can go now. Just remember to slow down and work accurately," I added gently.

She nodded earnestly. "Yes, Doctor. Thank you."

I watched her leave, hoping this conversation would serve as a turning point for her attention to detail. Turning back to my day off, I sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of responsibilities that often spilled over into personal time.

As I was walking out of the room, I noticed the girl suddenly stop in her tracks and stare at Garet. Her eyes widened in shock. “Garry? You….”

I frowned, wondering what was going on. Why were they both so stunned?

Garet quickly regained his composure and put on his usual neutral expression. “Is everything alright?” I asked, trying to understand the sudden tension.

“No, no. I must’ve mistaken him for someone else. I’m sorry,” she stammered, clearly flustered.

“Alright, let’s get going, Garet. I think we still have time to grab lunch at Olive’s,” I said, stepping between them to break the awkwardness. Garet quickly followed, and we headed out of the hospital around 1 p.m. The lunch plan wasn’t completely ruined yet.

As we drove through the city, the tall buildings reflecting the afternoon sun, I sighed and broke the silence. Garet was focused on the road, not saying much.

“Garet, Mom’s been asking us to visit. When do you think we can go?” I asked, hoping to make some plans.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I’ll check my schedule and let you know,” he replied, still focused on driving.

“Okay. It’s just that we haven’t been in touch with her for a while. How are your parents doing?” I asked, trying to make conversation.

“They’re... fine, I guess. Haven’t talked to them much recently. Mom did call last week, though. She’s still on about wanting a grandbaby,” Garet said, his tone as monotone as ever.

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, and decided not to mention that my mom had been saying the same thing. It might have made things awkward. Garet’s parents had always been kind to me. Sometimes, I even thought that part of the reason Garet agreed to marry me was because his parents had never approved of his relationships with anyone else.

To shift the mood, I decided to play some music from my playlist and clicked on one of my favorite oldies. Ricky Nelson’s “I Will Follow You” started playing, its upbeat intro filling the car. We both had a soft spot for these classic tunes, so it wasn’t unusual for us to bond over them.

I will follow you

Follow you wherever you may go

There isn't an ocean too deep

A mountain so high it can keep me away

I must follow you

Ever since you touched my hand I know

That near you, I always must be

And nothing can keep you from me

You are my destiny

We’d spent many drives and meals enjoying songs like this, whether we were aimlessly cruising around the city or just grabbing a bite to eat.

As the familiar melody filled the car, I was instantly transported back to those carefree college days when our biggest concern was which diner to visit next. I hummed along to the song, and Garet glanced over at me with a smile. It seemed he was feeling the nostalgia too.

“Garet, you know I will follow you around,” I said playfully, not entirely sure why I said it but feeling it was fitting in the moment.

“Won’t you be tired?” he asked with a teasing tone.

I nudged his arm lightly and replied, “Never.”

After a couple more songs, we pulled up to Olive’s, our favorite restaurant. I ordered my usual: carbonara spaghetti and garlic bread, while Garet went for his goto chicken with honey sauce. We chatted about everything and nothing as we ate, bouncing from one topic to another.

At some point, Garet asked about my work. We’d both been so busy lately that I hadn’t had a chance to fill him in. I told him about the new intern nurse who had been causing problems at the hospital.

“What’s her name?” Garet asked, looking curious.

“Dunne. Jane or Joanna Dunne, I think. Do you know her?” I asked, recalling the strange interaction we’d had earlier that day.

He paused for a moment before saying, “I’m not sure. She looked a bit like someone I knew back in high school.”

“Who? She seemed younger than us. How would you know her?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s just a vague memory. Could be wrong,” Garet replied with a shrug. I studied his face and saw that he seemed sincere, so I decided not to press further. We hadn’t had a chance to relax and enjoy each other’s company like this in ages, and I didn’t want to spoil it.

After our meal, we decided to stop by a nearby supermarket to pick up some health supplements and multivitamins for my mom. She was getting older, and I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed to stay healthy.

With plenty of daylight left, I thought it’d be nice to continue our outing. I suggested we grab some cookies or coffee at our favorite café. On the way there, I called up my best friend, Roxanne. We all went to the same college, though we studied different subjects. Despite that, we had become quite close.

Roxanne was thrilled at the idea of catching up, especially since it had been months since we last saw each other. So there we were, sitting by the café’s window, enjoying our coffee and chatting like old times. Roxanne had a knack for bringing humor to any situation, and today was no different. She joked about how Garet looked a bit worn out from dealing with criminals all the time. She also supported my mom’s advice about taking a break and spending a few days in the village.

“Maybe you two can finally get around to doing some ‘teamwork’,” Roxanne teased, clapping her hands in a playful gesture and winked. Her bold and loud personality always added a unique flair to our trio. Garet’s serious demeanor and my tendency to mirror people were perfectly balanced by Roxanne’s vibrant energy. It was good to be reminded of the simple joys of friendship and laughter.

Not long after, a man in his early thirties strolled over to our table. He had a thin frame and a bit of an awkward demeanor, with curly hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. But when he started talking, his warm, engaging personality was like a breath of fresh air. This was Leon Perez, the manager of the café. He was someone we’d gotten to know over the years because we were regulars here. We were more like friends than just customers.

“Hey! Where have you all been? I thought you’d moved abroad without a word,” Leon greeted us with a grin.

“Sorry, Leon. Work’s been crazy busy,” I said. “What about you? You never drop by Livy’s hospital or Garet’s office, and don’t even get me started on my radio station,” Roxanne shot back with a playful tone.

Leon’s grandparents had come to this country as immigrants and had a tough start, but they persevered. D’Perez, the café, was a testament to their hard work. Over the decades, it grew from a small shop into a successful chain with branches all over the state. Leon was now managing the one in Kingsleigh, the city where we lived.

When we first started coming here, it was a quiet little spot with great service and an even better menu. The business took off, the place expanded, but it still retained that cozy, welcoming atmosphere that made us feel at home.

Leon and Garet chatted about everything from the latest news to upcoming elections and DIY projects. Meanwhile, Roxanne and I caught up on each other’s lives, swapping stories and laughing about old times.

I felt a genuine sense of happiness as I sat there, enjoying the perfect day and the company of friends over coffee. Life felt so good, and everything seemed to click into place after catching up with people we cared about.

Garet and Leon stepped outside for a smoke break, and Roxanne turned to me with a mischievous smile. “So, how’s things between you and him?” she asked, clearly curious.

“Me and Garet? I think we’re okay, at least today,” I said. “We’ve been so caught up in work that we kind of lost our spark over the past few months, but today felt like a nice change.”

I went on to describe our “little date” and how the day almost took a nosedive because of the incident at the hospital.

“Wait, hold on,” Roxanne interrupted, suddenly looking intrigued. “What’s the intern’s name again?”

“Why does everyone care so much about her name? Is she someone famous?” I asked, puzzled.

“It just sounds really familiar. Dunne? Jane Dunne? Oh my God,” Roxanne said, her expression shifting to one of disbelief.

“What’s wrong? Do you know her?” I asked, leaning in.

“Of course I do. Do you have her photo?” Roxanne’s tone was urgent.

I hesitated for a moment before pulling out my phone and showing her a group photo from a colleague’s birthday party we’d taken just two weeks ago.

Roxanne’s eyes widened as she looked at the picture. “Yes, that’s her.”

“You know her?” I asked again, my curiosity mounting.

“Actually, we both do,” Roxanne said slowly.

“Wait, what do you mean?” I was getting more confused.

“You remember Garet’s ex? She was a freshman when they dated in high school, 3 years younger,” Roxanne said carefully.

I stared at her, trying to piece things together. “What? You mean, that Jane…?”

Before I could finish my thought, it all clicked into place. The Jane from Garet’s past was the same Jane who was now the intern at the hospital.

I turned to look at Garet, who was chatting with Leon outside, and a wave of unease washed over me. I might have been overreacting, but the sudden realization felt like a sharp jab in my gut. Something about it just didn’t sit right, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye.

As dinner time rolled around, we wrapped up our catchup with Roxanne and headed home. Roxanne gave me a tight hug before we parted ways, whispering, “Call me if anything happens, okay?”

I forced a smile, trying not to let her see how anxI felt. I nodded, hoping to reassure her.

The drive back home was quiet. We both seemed lost in our thoughts. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at me. Finally, I decided to voice my concerns.

“So... she’s your ex?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I was trying hard to keep my tone calm and collected. Garet glanced over at me and nodded. “Yes.”

His straightforwardness was both comforting and disconcerting. I appreciated his honesty, but knowing Jane was his ex stirred up a mix of emotions in me. It was unsettling, even though nothing had happened between them recently.

“Don’t worry,” Garet said, trying to soothe me. “What’s in the past is in the past. We’re married now, and that’s what matters.”

I looked into his brown eyes, feeling the familiar warmth of his gaze. I held his hand, forcing a smile, and told myself that his love for me was strong and unchanging. Time would tell, but for now, I had to trust in what we had.

Days turned into weeks, and life settled back into its usual routine. We were both buried in work, barely seeing each other except for a few hours each week. The worry about Jane faded into the background. Even if she was Garet’s past, I was his present and future—at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

One day, as I was tidying up the room and gathering dirty laundry, I came across Garet’s tshirts. We had a helper who took care of most of the housework, but I still liked to do small chores myself. As I picked up his clothes, I noticed something odd. There was a faint, unfamiliar scent on his tshirt.

It was subtle, but it made me pause. I couldn’t quite place it, and it caused a small, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I thought it was just a weird coincidence and shrugged it off. The scent could easily be from his clients or colleagues; he interacted with so many people every day.

But then, another odd thing happened. I was finishing up a night shift at the hospital when I saw him in the corridor.

“Garet? What are you doing here?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

“I’m here to pick you up,” he replied casually.

It was unusual for him to come to the hospital, let alone pick me up. It was a nice surprise, and I felt a wave of happiness. “Great! I’ll just tidy up a bit. Wait here!” I said, heading to my office to grab my things. My shift had ended, so I was ready to go.

When I came back out, though, there was no sign of him. I called his phone, but it went straight to voicemail. I tried calling repeatedly, but there was no answer. I figured maybe he was in the restroom or had to step away briefly, so I waited for about ten minutes. I even asked a colleague to check the restroom, but he wasn’t there.

Puzzled, I went to check the parking lot, thinking maybe he was waiting for me there. I roamed around the vast parking area for almost an hour, but he was nowhere to be found. Growing increasingly anxious, I ended up ordering a taxi to head home, assuming he might have gone back without me.

When I got home, there was no sign of him. My worry turned to panic. Had he disappeared? Or was I just too tired and imagining things? I texted Bernard, Garet’s work partner and best buddy, to see if he knew where Garet was.

Bernard’s reply came back quickly, which read, [No, he left the site a few hours ago.]

I asked if he could try contacting Garet, but Bernard told me he couldn’t reach him either. Apparently, Garet’s phone was dead, which wasn’t typical of him. This only added to my growing anxiety. What was going on?

I was fraught with worry over Garet’s sudden disappearance. Desperate to calm myself, I took a long, soothing shower and tried to wash away the anxiety that had built up. Afterward, I checked my phone again, hoping for a missed call or message, but there was nothing. The clock was inching closer to midnight, and the fear that something might have happened to him was overwhelming.

I decided to call Roxanne, hoping she might still be awake and able to offer some support. When she answered, her voice was groggy and a bit irritated. “Hello? Livy, why are you calling me so late?” she mumbled.

I quickly explained the situation, my voice trembling. There was a long pause on the other end. “Hello? Roxanne, are you still there?” I asked, my heart racing.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she finally responded, sounding more alert. “I’m just thinking. Garet’s been with the police for years, right? He’ll be fine. Don’t panic. I think you should try to get some sleep. We can come up with a plan if he’s still missing in the morning. You need rest, okay?”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Alright, I’ll talk to you in the morning. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just try to stay positive. I’m sure he’s okay,” she said with a reassuring tone. Her confidence helped soothe my nerves a bit.

After thanking her, I ended the call and tried my best to get some sleep. I tossed and turned for hours, unable to shake the anxiety that clung to me. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and I managed to drift off.

My alarm blared at 6 am, jolting me awake. I had only slept for a few hours, and my body felt heavy and broken. I quickly rubbed the sleep from my eyes and grabbed my phone, praying for a message or call that might reassure me.

There it was—the longawaited message from Garet. He had replied just an hour ago, explaining that his colleague had called him for something urgent the previous night. After the call, his phone died, and he got caught up in some casework back at the office. He must have fallen asleep there and completely forgot about his dead phone.

I was a mix of relieved and annoyed. It was totally unlike Garet to worry me like this. He was usually so reliable and considerate. I called him right away, and he picked up after a few rings.

“Garet, where were you? I was freaking out, trying to reach you and even contacted your friends!” I started, my voice tinged with frustration.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, his baritone voice sounding genuinely tired. “It was an urgent situation. I promise it won’t happen again.”

His fatigue softened my anger a bit. “When are you coming home? I’ll make you some soup,” I offered, trying to shift the focus to something more caring.

“Maybe around noon,” he replied. “Aren’t you working today?”

“No, I’m taking the day off,” I said. “I’m exhausted from all the stress last night.”

There was a brief silence before he responded, “Okay, I’ll see you around then.”

After ending the call, I quickly sent messages to Roxanne and Bernard to let them know Garet was okay and reassure them that everything was fine. With that settled, I fell back onto the bed, pulled the covers over me, and tried to get a bit more sleep.

Garet's voice echoed, "Goodbye, Livy. I’m sorry, but we can’t be together," as he let go of my hand. Next to him stood Jane, her smile warm and sweet, her big eyes and rosy cheeks glowing. I felt myself dangling over a cliff, desperately clinging to Garet's hand. But then, he pulled away, letting me plummet into the dark abyss below. I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the void.

Just as I was about to hit the bottom, the ground began to tremble and buzz uncontrollably. I shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, my heart racing. It took a moment to realize it was just another alarm I had set. What a nightmare! The sensation of falling felt so vivid and terrifying. I chalked it up to being overly tired and stressed from everything going on lately.

I stumbled out of bed, washed my face, and headed to the kitchen. I needed to distract myself. I opened the fridge and checked the ingredients for the soup. Everything was in place. I started washing and chopping vegetables, preparing the seasoning for Garet’s favorite potato and vegetable soup. It was a simple dish, but it had been a comforting staple for us, especially with the special recipe my mom had passed down.

By noon, the soup was simmering on the stove, and I was just about to set the table when my phone buzzed with a new message. I picked it up, and my heart sank as I read the text.

My colleague texted me a photo on WhatsApp and asked, [Livy, is that your husband? I just saw him at Central Mall.]

I opened the photo and saw Garet walking with a woman, her arms full of shopping bags. Instantly, I recognized them as Garet and Jane. My hands were shaking, and my mind was spinning with disbelief. ‘No way, how? Why? Didn’t he say they were just a part of his past?’ I was overwhelmed with questions.

I tried to calm myself and dialed his number. When he picked up, I asked, “Where are you?” I was forcing myself to sound calm while pinching my own hands.

“I’m working on something, but I’ll be home soon,” he said quickly before hanging up. I felt dizzy, so I sat down with the soup I had made for us, but now eating alone felt like a cruel twist. My mind kept going back to the photo—why would he lie to me? Was he cheating on me?

An hour later, I heard the car pull into the garage. Garet came through the door looking fresh, with only a few wrinkles in his shirt. This was in stark contrast to the way he sounded on the phone earlier.

He saw me sitting at the kitchen bar with an empty bowl and asked, “You made soup?” He glanced at the stove, noticing what was left.

I didn’t say a word, just kept staring at him.

He seemed to pick up on my silence because he turned to face me and said, “You’re still upset, aren’t you? I’m sorry, last night was really urgent. Didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”

Even though I was still fuming about last night, the fact that he’d lied today and was hanging out with Jane behind my back was what really crushed me.

“What are you working on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

“Well, we’ve got some new cases—mostly missing persons,” he replied.

“Do any of those cases require a trip to Central Mall?” I pressed, watching his reaction closely.

He paused, and a strange look crossed his face—one I didn’t recognize. I used to be able to read him like a book, but this expression was new.

“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly caught off guard.

I showed him the photo I’d received earlier. “Looks like you’re having a great time with your old lover. Care to explain? I thought you were buried in work.”

“It’s not what it seems, Livy. I was at the mall for work, and I ran into her. We just ended up walking around together. It’s nothing,” he said.

“Stop lying! I don’t believe you anymore. You’re a liar and a cheat. I don’t even recognize you anymore!” I yelled. All my expectations and dreams of him being a good husband were shattered. I felt sick realizing how many lies had been hidden from me.

This was the first major fight we’d had in years, and he kept insisting that I was overreacting, denying everything. The frustration and betrayal were overwhelming, and I felt completely lost.

“You used to be so logical. What happened to you?” Garet snapped, clearly annoyed.

“And you used to be honest with me!” I shot back, trying to hold back tears before storming upstairs.

I slammed my bedroom door and locked it. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened. Was I really being cheated on? He’d told me just a few weeks ago not to worry.

Little did I know, this argument was just the beginning of a much bigger crack in our marriage, one that was only going to get wider.

After crying for what felt like hours, I eventually fell asleep and woke up in the afternoon. I looked around the house—Garet wasn’t there. Good. I wasn’t ready to see him just yet.

The rest of my day off felt like a waste. I lounged on the sofa, staring at the photo, trying to find some reason or explanation for why Garet and Jane were together. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. I wanted to reach out to Roxanne for support, but I was mentally drained and not ready to talk about it.

The next day at the hospital, I saw Jane again. She looked as innocent as ever, and just seeing her made me feel even worse. I called her into my office, and as soon as she walked in, I said, “I know who you are now.”

“Huh, doc?” she asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

“You’re Garet’s ex,” I said, cutting to the chase. “Stop playing dumb. If you think you can take him from me, trust me, it won’t be an easy fight.”

She stared at me for a while before putting on a faint smirk. “Ms. Wilson, we’ll see,” she said, her tone laced with a subtle edge.

I was taken aback. The oncegentle young woman had suddenly turned into someone I barely recognized. Before I could come up with a reply, she excused herself and left with that same sweet, innocent smile she always wore.

Once she was gone, I realized she was playing some kind of mind game with me. I clenched my fists and muttered, “Yeah, we’ll see, little girl.”

From that moment on, Jane’s attitude towards me became noticeably more dismissive. She ignored many of my instructions, causing a slew of problems and increasing my workload.

Then one day, I noticed a new notification on my phone—someone had followed my Instagram account under the username “thedreamgirl.” I didn’t think much of it at first. Although I wasn’t very active on social media, I often got random followers for various reasons.

I was in the middle of work, so I just glanced at my phone and then went back to my paperwork. A few minutes later, my phone was buzzing with a flurry of notifications. I picked it up and saw that the account had spammed likes on almost all of my posts, even the oldest ones.

Curious, I clicked on the username. The profile that loaded was brand new—just following me and with no followers of its own. I raised my eyebrows in confusion. This was odd. Most of the random accounts that followed me were either bots or business profiles. Was this one just another bot?

But when I looked at the photos, I was stunned. There were three pictures, each more unsettling than the last.

The first photo was a highangle selfie of a woman sitting in a car. I couldn’t see her face, just from her chin down. She was wearing a pink dress, and I could see a muscular arm resting on her stomach. The caption read, [My human seatbelt.]

The second photo was taken on an escalator. The woman and a man were holding hands, and she snapped the photo using the reflection in the mirror above the escalator. The location was tagged as Central Mall of Kingsleigh, but there was no caption.

The most recent photo was of a pair of doe eyes looking directly at the camera while leaning on a guy’s shoulder. The caption was just a red heart emoji.

I felt a shiver. Was this really happening? I tried to convince myself it was just a coincidence, but everything seemed too aligned. I recognized the man in the photos—Garet. Connecting the dots, it became clear that Jane was deliberately trying to mess with me. This was clearly intentional, and it made me feel sick.

My heart was racing, so I called Roxanne. She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Livy! What’s up?”

“Do you have time to meet?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Hmm, let me think… How about next Saturday? I’m out of town right now.”

“Okay, I’ll take the day off on Saturday. Thanks, Roxanne,” I said, feeling a bit of relief.

“Is this about Garet?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

“Huh?”

“You seem like you want to talk about something important,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s a long story. I’ll fill you in when we meet.”

There was a short pause before she said, “Alright, just don’t overthink things too much, okay?”

Her tone was laced with worry, and I could tell she sensed something was off. That’s what they call the best friend’s radar—when you have a close connection with someone, you often pick up on each other’s feelings, even without words.

After the call ended, I took screenshots of the notifications, the weird account’s profile, and the photos, just in case they got deleted later. I planned to lay everything out for Roxanne in person.

I had always been open with her. From the early days of dating Garet to our marriage, I shared my feelings and problems with her. Even though she could be loud and silly at times, she had always given me solid advice and a listening ear.

I crossed my fingers, hoping she could help me this time. She wasn’t a marriage counselor and was still single herself, but it would be comforting to have someone to talk to about this mess.

With a week to go before my meeting with Roxanne, I tried to distract myself by diving into work. I hoped that keeping busy might help quiet my tangled thoughts.

Garet was becoming more and more distant, to the point where he didn’t even want to visit my mom with me. This led to yet another fight. “You have time for that bitch, but when it comes to my mom, you’re busy, huh?” I snapped. Cheating on me was one thing, but disrespecting my mom was crossing the line. She always doted on him, and I knew she loved him as much as she loved me.

“Stop it, Livy! I’m not making excuses. You can check my schedule with my secretary if you don’t trust me. And watch your mouth; don’t go around calling people bitches,” he shot back.

“I don’t care, she’s a little bitch. Are you defending your girlfriend now, Garet? How low can you get? I really thought you were at least a decent man.”

We fought constantly. Whenever we were together, it was either yelling and shouting or cold, silent treatment. The relentless online harassment didn’t help either. That account, which I was convinced was run by Jane, kept sending me photos of my husband whenever they were together. All I could do was mute it.

I started to think this was Jane’s way of getting back at me. I could make things tough for her at work, but she could even the score by wrecking my marriage and flaunting her affair with my husband. I wanted to confront her publicly, but I knew I had to be smart or I’d end up embarrassing myself. She cleverly hid her face and identity, leaving just enough clues for me to know it was her, but not enough for me to call her out. What a snake!

A few days later, my mom called me again. “Livy, when will you be here? You’re making me sad.”

I realized it had been a month since Mom asked me to visit her. With everything going on with Garet, I wasn’t sure what to say. If Mom found out we were having issues, she’d be so worried.

“Yeah, Mom. Garet’s still busy with some cases. I think I’ll visit you alone at the end of the month,” I replied. Reconnecting with nature and spending time with my mom sounded like the therapy I needed.

“Are you two okay?” she asked.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?” I tried to sound cheerful to keep her from worrying. “We bought you a bunch of multivitamins and supplements. You have to take them all and stay healthy,” I added.

“I don’t need those. I eat natural foods here. So unlike you city people. I’ll be fine,” Mom joked.

We chatted for another ten minutes, mostly about the fruits she was growing and harvesting. I felt much better after talking to her and headed to the pantry to make some coffee.

Inside, a few nurses were chatting and laughing.

“Are you sure it’s her?”

“Yes, she’s that pretty intern.”

“You saw her getting out of a BMW in the lobby? Do you think she’s rich?”

“No, it must be her sugar daddy.”

“You sure it was a BMW?”

“Geez, why don’t you believe me? I saw it with my own eyes. It was a red BMW, something we can’t afford.”

“Well, no wonder. She’s pretty; she can get a rich man easily.”

“And she’s still young, too.”

I tried to ignore their gossip as I focused on making my coffee, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Garet drove a red BMW, and I couldn’t shake the bad feeling creeping in.

I turned around. “Who are you girls talking about?”

They looked caught off guard and nervous. My reputation as a strict and serious doctor probably made them worry about being scolded for gossiping.

“No, Ms. Wilson, it’s...”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to scold you. I’m just curious,” I reassured them.

“Eh, it’s Jane Dunne. The intern under you... but it’s just our assumption, we didn’t mean to…”

“Miss Dunne? Okay, that’s all I wanted to know,” I said, heading back to my office, leaving them looking puzzled.

I called the nurse's desk and asked for Jane to come to my office. She walked in and asked calmly, “You wanted to see me, Doc?”

I always found it sickening to deal with people like her; they were the hardest to handle.

“Yeah, have a seat,” I said.

We locked eyes for a few seconds in silence. Then, I spoke, “I know what you’re up to. It’s not going to work. Do you forget that I’m your superior here? You think you can do whatever you want without facing consequences?”

I had to make her understand her place and stop acting like a brat. She showed no expression and said, “I don’t understand, Ms. Wilson. What are you talking about?”

“It’s no use playing dumb with me. I’ve spoken to the director. You’re not passing your internship here, and you’re banned from applying again,” I said firmly. This girl wanted to play stupid games, and now she could have her stupid prize.

Her expression quickly changed, and she looked devastated. “No, you can’t do this! You can’t kick me out just because of a personal opinion!”

“Actually, I can. Do you forget who I am? I’m the key doctor here, and the director trusts me. And you’re just an intern, a lousy one who’s always messing around. I have enough proof of your poor work, Jane,” I said, smirking.

She was silent, looking shocked.

“Why? You think I’m weak, and you can pester me all you want? Silly girl.”

“You old witch! You can’t stop me! I’ll take Garry back, take your place, and get rid of you! Just watch, I will… I will…” She suddenly jumped at me and tried to pull my hair with both hands.

She knocked my glass down, and it shattered on the floor. I didn’t expect her to get violent and shouted for help. The loud commotion attracted people outside, and a few rushed in, shocked to see the scene.

Three people tried to separate us, and quickly, security guards were called.

They dragged Jane out, and asked if I was okay. She was still yelling, “This isn’t over! You’ll regret it! Let me go! Let me go!”

Jane looked disheveled and crazy. Understandably so; this hospital was renowned in the whole country, and being marked as incompetent here could end anyone’s medical career. She wouldn’t get a job as a nurse anywhere in the area.

I didn’t want to play the power card, but she pushed me to it, and I had no other choice.

The morning after the incident, Garet came home. He saw me making breakfast and walked over.

I heard his footsteps but ignored him. I wasn’t about to greet him warmly or offer him food like I used to. He never appreciated it anyway.

“Why did you do that?” he asked abruptly.

“Did what?” I replied.

“Come on, Livy. Don’t be childish. You’re ruining someone’s life.”

“Me? Childish? Ruining someone’s life?” I laughed. “Garet, are you serious? My life’s the one that's ruined. Can’t you see that?”

“You should’ve known better than to play behind my back, Garet. You’re clearly cheating on me, yet you blame me. I’m your wife, and I have to beg for your time. Haven’t I treated you well? Tell me, what did I do to deserve this? You’re a selfish jerk. You have a wife but can’t resist your ex. What a weak man!”

He stayed silent, clenching his teeth, and then just turned around and left the house. I didn’t stop him. My feelings for him, built up over so many years, had faded almost completely. Constant distrust and disappointment had really taken their toll on our love.

The day of our meeting finally arrived. Roxanne and I planned to catch up at D’Perez for brunch and coffee. When we met, we hugged and exchanged updates. Roxanne had been busy with road tours as a radio host, attending events and traveling frequently. I was genuinely happy for her; she seemed to love her job.

Once our coffee and pastries arrived, I started to unload everything. I told her about the online harassment, Garet’s odd behavior, and the fights with Garet and Jane. Roxanne listened intently, nodding and looking genuinely concerned, but she didn’t interrupt.

As I spoke, my eyes began to sting, and tears finally began to flow. I’d tried so hard to stay strong these past few weeks, but now I could let it all out with her.

Roxanne handed me some tissues and sipped her coffee. “I can’t believe Garet would do this to you. And Jane—what a horrible woman. They both are disgusting. You deserve so much better, Livy,” she said, patting my shoulder.

I was sniffling and struggling to respond. “You know what I think? You should gather all the evidence you can and wait for the perfect moment to act. Don’t show them your jealousy or anger. Can you manage that?” she suggested.

“I’ll try,” I said. “My feelings for Garet have changed. I don’t respect him anymore, and love needs respect.”

“Good, you’re so strong, Livy. Do you need a private detective to gather information? I can help with that,” Roxanne offered.

“No, I’ll handle it myself. After all, Garet’s a private detective too,” I said with a bitter smile. The thought of a private detective getting investigated by fellow detectives felt like something out of a movie.

We chatted for hours, and I felt refreshed. We didn’t run into Leon, and an employee mentioned he was out of town. Around noon, Roxanne suggested, “Why don’t we go shopping? I don’t have any plans, and retail therapy is always a good idea, right?”

I agreed. It had been a while since I’d splurged on new clothes, shoes, bags, or accessories.

We headed to the mall and browsed through the stores. I ended up buying a new work suit, a party dress, and a pair of high heels. Next, we went to a hair and nail salon. Roxanne was excited to try a new hairstyle, and so was I. The stylist recommended a mediumlength cut with layers, and I went for it. I also decided to dye my dark brown hair golden brown with strawberry blonde highlights.

The whole process took about two hours, but it was enjoyable since I got to chat with Roxanne while we waited.

When my hair was finally styled and dried, I was stunned. I hadn’t realized how much a new hairstyle could transform someone. Roxanne was equally thrilled with her new look; it suited her perfectly.

“OMG, Livy!” she exclaimed.

“I know, right? It’s unbelievable! You look even more stunning—though you were pretty before,” I teased.

“I’m not talking about me. Look at you! Who are you? I’d think you were a model if I didn’t know you!” she said, wideeyed.

“Oh, shut up!” I laughed, blushing but genuinely happy. The new hairstyle and color really did make a difference.

“Can we take some photos and videos for Instagram?” the salon employee asked.

“Yes, definitely! We need them for ourselves too!” Roxanne said eagerly. After a few snapshots and videos, we headed out of the nail station. I also got my nails done. I have a bad habit of biting them, which made them look pretty rough. So, getting a manicure was definitely overdue.

Outside, the sky was getting darker, signaling that it was time to go home. This day had really lifted my spirits and boosted my confidence. Roxanne drove me back to my place, and I thanked her for a muchneeded break from all the storms in my life.

She waved goodbye as she drove off, and I walked into the house to find it empty. It wasn’t surprising—I wasn’t even sure where Garet was these days. The last time we talked was when he was furious after I kicked Jane out of the hospital a few days ago.

Feeling refreshed, I didn’t want to let thoughts of him ruin my mood. Instead, I scrolled through my phone, looking at the photos from the salon. We looked adorable, and I wanted to keep the memory of this fun day alive, so I uploaded a few pictures.

Almost immediately, I started getting likes and positive comments from friends and acquaintances. I replied to them while smiling.

[OMG!! We’re so cute], Roxanne commented. Just as I was about to respond, I noticed a comment from Jane’s alleged account, hisdreamgirl, saying [Eww, ugly whores.]

I rolled my eyes, took a screenshot of the comment, and then removed it. I wasn’t ready to block her yet because I needed more evidence. I messaged Roxanne about the comment, and she replied, [I want to punch her so bad.]

I sent back a string of laughing emojis.

Then another notification popped up. I assumed it was from Roxanne, but it turned out to be a comment from a fellow doctor. Hendrickjones: [Nice hair, Livia.]

Hendrick was a wellrespected doctor, known for his skills and quiet demeanor. We hadn’t interacted much before, but he seemed pleasant. I thanked him and didn’t give it too much thought.

As the days dragged on, I was eagerly awaiting the long weekend at the end of the month, when I planned to visit my mom. Meanwhile, Jane’s harassment continued. She’d even started sending me threatening messages on WhatsApp. I followed the advice I’d received and made sure to document everything and archive the chat.

One morning, I found an invitation on my desk. It was from Hendrick Jones, inviting me to a housewarming party. He’d just moved into a new place and wanted to celebrate. I was a bit surprised since we weren’t very close and worked in different divisions. However, after seeing the group chat and realizing that many of my colleagues were attending, I decided to go.

At noon, I ran into Hendrick in the cafeteria. He started a conversation, “You’re coming to the party, right, Ms. Wilson?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. It’s the day after tomorrow, right?” I replied.

“Exactly,” he said. There was a brief pause before he added, “By the way, your hair really looks great. Has anyone told you that?”

I laughed and replied, “Thanks, Mr. Jones. I’ve been getting compliments on my hair all day.”

It was true—some of the nurses even mentioned I looked ten years younger with the new style. If that was the case, I figured a fresh haircut might be more effective than Botox.

“Of course,” Hendrick said with a smile. I said my goodbyes and went to join my colleagues for lunch.

Throughout the meal, I noticed Hendrick glancing over at me, which made me feel a bit shy. He was quite attractive in his own way. Even though he wore glasses, his blue eyes were captivating, and his blonde hair added to his charm. While Garet had sharp, intense features, Hendrick had a calm, deep presence. If Garet was a towering mountain, Hendrick felt more like a tranquil sea.

I tried to focus on my meal and not get caught up in the comparisons. When the day of the party finally arrived, I headed home after work and changed into the maroon dress I’d bought with Roxanne. The dress fit beautifully, highlighting my curves without being too revealing. I was in a great mood as I applied some light makeup and styled my hair.

Feeling confident and uplifted by my outfit and makeup, I was about to leave for the party when a car pulled up right in front of my house.

It turned out to be Garet. He parked the car in the garage, got out, and looked at me with a confused expression. “Where are you going?”

“To a party,” I said curtly, trying to walk past him. But he grabbed my wrist and said, “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not. It’s a colleague’s party, and you don’t even know him.”

“Him?”

“Let go of me, my taxi is waiting!” I said, pushing his hand away and heading for the cab.

“You can’t go to a guy’s party dressed like that,” he said, trying to stop me.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You can cheat with your ex, but I can’t go to a party with a male colleague?” I pushed his hand away again and got into the taxi.

When I arrived at the party, my friends were already enjoying themselves. The living room was buzzing with laughter and conversation, and Hendrick, the host, greeted me warmly. I joined the group and soon found myself caught up in the fun, which included a lively karaoke session in the backyard. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed myself this much, and we snapped plenty of photos.

During the karaoke, I needed to use the restroom, so I asked Hendrick where it was. He started to explain, but his voice was drowned out by the noise of the party.

Without warning, Hendrick took my hand and guided me inside, away from the commotion. “I’ll show you where the restroom is,” he said once we were far enough from the noise and then let go of my hand.

“Okay,” I said, feeling a bit nervous. The house was enormous, and the restroom on the first floor was centrally located.

I quickly took care of things and emerged from the restroom. Hendrick was still waiting for me near the fish pond, which was surrounded by beautiful koi fish, water lilies, and stones. I stood beside him, and we watched the fish swim gracefully.

“They’re so pretty,” I commented.

“Yeah, they are,” Hendrick agreed. “And you.…”

“Me?” I asked, intrigued.

“I mean, and you know what? Just like these fish, which look their best when they’re well cared for and in the right environment, people also need to be in a good place and treated well to truly shine,” he explained.

“I guess that’s true,” I said. I wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but his words felt meaningful.

After a while, we headed back to the main party area. By then, some friends were preparing to leave since it was getting late. A colleague who lived near me offered me a ride, so I accepted and said my goodbyes to those who remained.

Hendrick saw us off at the gate and gave me a warm smile, which I returned before getting into the car.

“He seems different tonight,” my colleague remarked.

“Different how?”

“Usually, Hendrick is so quiet and reserved at the hospital. But tonight, he’s smiling and more talkative,” she explained.

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” I said. I felt like I was starting to understand him better. While he could be reserved and intense, he also had a warm and approachable side that shone through when given the chance.

In the car, I took a moment to repost all the stories my colleagues had tagged me in. We were all smiling and dancing, and there was even a collage of candid shots. One photo caught my eye: I was laughing at a silly performance while Hendrick looked at me. I didn’t remember when it was taken, but it made me blush. I quickly pushed the thought away—after all, I was still married.

When I got home, Garet was still there. I tried to walk past him, but he blocked my way. “Move!” I said.

He stood there silently, scanning me from head to toe. I rolled my eyes and tried to sidestep him, but he wrapped his arms around me. I was stunned. I used to find comfort in his embrace, but now it only annoyed me. I struggled to free myself and said, “Let me go. Why don’t you stay at Jane’s place tonight?”

At the mention of Jane, his expression shifted, and he released me. “There’s nothing between us. We were just catching up. That’s all,” he insisted.

“Bullshit!” I snapped. Did he really think I was that naïve?

“Let’s go visit your mom,” he suggested.

I hesitated. Why the sudden change of heart?

I didn’t respond and pushed past him, heading upstairs to lock myself in my room. He could use the guest room or the sofa for all I cared.

After removing my makeup and taking a shower, I messaged Roxanne to fill her in on what had happened.

She replied almost immediately, [I think he’s jealous. Good job, Livy!]

[Really?]

[100% positive,] Roxanne responded with confidence. I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction.

It seemed like my plan was working. I was starting to think about accepting Garet’s offer to go to Mom’s house together; it would definitely make her happy.

The day finally arrived. I packed a bag with some clothes and took it to the office, planning to head straight to the train station after work. Garet had offered to pick me up so we could go together. I said, “Whatever.” Given the state of our relationship, I wasn’t sure if he’d actually show up. If he didn’t, I was ready to go alone.

When my shift ended, I grabbed my bag and headed to the lobby to wait for Garet. I’d told him when my shift would finish, and he’d assured me he’d be there soon. As I was waiting, I bumped into Hendrick in the corridor.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, noticing the travel bag I was carrying.

“I’m off to visit my mom for the long weekend. Taking the train,” I replied.

“Do you need a ride? I’m heading home now too,” he offered.

“Thanks, but I think my husband will pick me up,” I said.

Hendrick nodded, and we continued to the lobby. Just then, a red BMW pulled up and stopped right in front of us. Garet got out of the car, looking worried. He quickly started calling for some hospital staff. From the passenger seat, Jane emerged, looking pale. The staff helped her inside, clearly attending to her needs.

Garet spotted me and hurried over. “Livia, I’m really sorry, but Jane’s suddenly sick. I need to take care of her. Can we postpone our visit?”

“No, I’ll go alone. You should stay with her; she needs you more,” I said calmly, trying to keep my tone even as I smiled.

Garet looked surprised and a bit frustrated. “Do you need me to call a taxi for you?”

“No, it’s fine. Hendrick can give me a ride,” I replied, glancing at Hendrick who was waiting nearby. “Isn’t that right?”

Hendrick nodded. “Absolutely.”

Garet looked unhappy but didn’t argue. He just walked away, leaving me and Hendrick.

We got into Hendrick’s car, and there was an awkward silence for a while. Hendrick finally broke it. “Your husband… wasn’t he with the intern just now?”

Hendrick seemed puzzled, and I decided to fill him in. “Yeah, but she’s not an intern anymore. They’re actually cheating on me.”

“You know they’re cheating?” Hendrick asked, clearly taken aback.

“Yep,” I said.

Hendrick was quiet for a moment before asking, “You seem pretty indifferent about this. Are you alright?”

“I’m okay now,” I said with a smile. “I think the spark has been gone for a while.”

After a brief chat with Hendrick, I boarded the train and settled in for the fourhour ride to my hometown. By the time I arrived, it was already night, but I managed to catch the last bus heading to my village. Once I got off, I had a pleasant fifteenminute walk ahead of me to reach my old house.

The night air was refreshing as I strolled along the dimly lit path. Despite the darkness, I felt safe knowing the crime rate here was virtually nonexistent. The full moon hung low in the sky, casting a soft orange glow over everything, while the cool breeze rustled through the leaves and the symphony of insects filled the air.

When I finally reached the cottage, I felt a rush of nostalgia. The small wooden house with its sprawling front and backyard, where Mom grew all sorts of vegetables and flowers, felt as welcoming as ever. I opened the low wooden gate, the bell above it jingling softly, and made my way to the front door, which was unlocked.

Stepping inside, I was greeted by the cozy living room. It was a small space, with a set of sofas facing the fireplace and walls adorned with framed photos and newspaper clippings. Each frame captured a piece of my life—from childhood moments to my graduation, my wedding, and articles celebrating my achievements. Seeing them all displayed so lovingly brought tears to my eyes; it was a powerful reminder of how much my mom cared for me.

Just then, a middle aged woman appeared, a dust cloth slung over her shoulder. Her eyes widened in surprise, and a broad smile spread across her face. “Oh my goodness, is that you, my little Livy?”

She came closer and hugged me tightly. No matter how old I got, I would always be her little girl. I hugged her back, breathing in the familiar jasmine scent that always reminded me of home. Mom loved to put jasmine flowers on her bed to sleep with.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming today! I would have cooked more if I knew,” she said, guiding me to sit at the dining table.

“I wanted to surprise you,” I replied with a big smile.

As she prepared hot chocolate, she asked, “So, Garet couldn’t come with you? That’s too bad, I miss him.”

“No, he’s busy,” I said.

“You two aren’t fighting, are you?”

“No, Mom. Don’t worry,” I assured her with another forced smile.

“How long are you staying?”

“Three days,” I answered.

“You should stay longer, maybe a week.”

“I can’t, Mom. Those poor patients would cry if I didn’t give them anesthesia during their surgeries,” I joked, trying to keep things light.

We chatted as she handed me the hot chocolate, and then Mom helped me carry my bags to my old room. It was just as I had left it, a time capsule of my teenage years. Everything was still in place, and the sense of nostalgia was overwhelming. Photos of me and Mom when we were younger brought a wave of gratitude for the bond we shared.

I laid on my bed, which wasn’t as soft as the one in the city but still felt comforting. Closing my eyes, I let memories of my friends and family wash over me, filling me with joy and a sense of belonging.

However, my phone buzzed. It was Garet. I didn't want to talk to him and ignored his calls, putting my phone on donotdisturb mode.

The next morning, I woke up early, feeling the chill in the air because I hadn’t used a blanket. I opened the window and looked out at the sky. My room faced east, giving me a perfect view of the sunrise. Watching the sunrise used to be my favorite way to start the day before school, and now I got to relive that moment. The sky transformed from dark to red, then orange, pink, and purple before finally turning blue. Those few minutes of serenity were magical.

I went downstairs to find Mom already up, busy in the kitchen like she always was.

“Hi, Mom. Need help?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of water.

“No, this kitchen is too small for the two of us,” she said with a warm smile.

“I’ll take care of the garden, then,” I replied, smiling back.

Mom’s garden was her pride and joy. In the backyard, she had tomatoes, eggplants, carrots, pumpkins, and cucumbers. The front yard was a vibrant display of jasmine, roses, petunias, and many other flowers I couldn’t name. Everything flourished under her careful attention.

I spent too much time in the hospital, surrounded by the sterile white of operating rooms, the smell of chemicals, medicines, blood, and disinfectants. It felt refreshing to be outside, surrounded by the vibrant colors of nature, listening to birds chirping and water flowing, and breathing in the scents of flowers, fresh water, and soil.

I smiled as I watched the drizzle of water on the plants’ leaves. After watering the garden and harvesting some vegetables, I joined my mom in the dining room, savoring the warm pumpkin and mushroom soup she had made. She also prepared mashed potatoes and hot milk for me.

“You need to eat more, look at how thin you are now!” she exclaimed, placing more food in front of me.

“Calm down, Mom. I’m full. You’re the one who needs more nutrition. I brought supplements for you,” I said, trying to reassure her.

“Nonsense, I’m fitter than you. I’d bet on it,” she retorted with a grin.

Our playful banter continued until we finished our meal. I washed the dishes while she went out to run some errands. It was only 8 o’clock, and I wasn’t sure what to do next. The air was still cold, and a bath sounded freezing, so I decided to take a nap.

I was awakened by the sound of people chatting. The sunlight streaming into my room told me it was already noon, and the warmth had increased. I got up and stretched, feeling rested and ready to face the day.

I checked the clock on my phone; it was 11:30. At that moment, I noticed several missed calls from Garet. I opened the notifications and saw his message. Around 11, he said he was near my mom’s house and would arrive in 15 minutes. I frowned. Was it him talking to my mom now?

Quickly, I got out of bed and walked downstairs. Sure enough, there he was, smiling and chatting with Mom in the living room.

“Livy, you said he wasn’t coming!” Mom exclaimed when she saw me, her voice filled with joy.

I forced a smile and approached them. “Well, that’s what he told me. Isn’t that right, Garet?”

“Yeah, I managed to reschedule a meeting, so I can stay here for the weekend,” he explained.

“It doesn’t matter. You two are here now, and I’m so happy! I’ll make you a pie. Garet, you should rest up after driving for so many hours this morning,” Mom said warmly.

“You drove all the way here?” I asked, a bit incredulous.

“Yes, that’s my car outside.” He pointed out the window. I wanted to ask about Jane but hesitated because Mom was there.

Once we were in my room, I finally asked him about her. “How’s Jane?”

“She’s okay now,” he replied.

I didn’t press for more details and quickly grabbed a towel, heading to the bathroom. As I was about to leave, he suddenly called out, “Livy.”

I paused, turning to look at him. “What is it, Garet?”

“I’m really trying here,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “I know things have been rough between us, but I want to make things right.”

I sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and hope. “We’ll see, Garet. Actions speak louder than words.”

With that, I went to the bathroom, letting the hot water wash away my thoughts. I needed time to clear my head and figure out my next steps.

When I returned, Garet was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He looked so different from the confident man I had married. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made my heart ache.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

“Not now,” I replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Let’s just enjoy the weekend with Mom.”

He nodded, seeming to understand. We spent the rest of the day helping Mom around the house and enjoying her delicious cooking. It felt almost normal, like we were a family again. But the underlying tension between us was hard to ignore.

Later that evening, after Mom had gone to bed, Garet and I sat on the porch, watching the stars. The silence was comfortable, yet charged with unspoken words.

“Do you remember our first date?” he asked suddenly.

I smiled, remembering the awkwardness and excitement of that night. “Yeah, you took me to that fancy restaurant, and I spilled wine all over my dress.”

“And I thought it was the cutest thing ever,” he said, laughing softly. “I knew then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Garet...” I started, unsure of what to say.

“I know, Livy. I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. But I’m here now, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix things,” he said, his voice filled with determination.

I looked at him, searching for sincerity in his eyes. “It’s going to take more than just words, Garet.”

“I know,” he replied, reaching for my hand. “But I’m ready to put in the work, if you’ll let me.”

I squeezed his hand, feeling a glimmer of hope. “One step at a time.”

We sat in silence, the cool night air wrapping around us. The familiar comfort of his presence was still there, but so were the wounds that needed healing. For now, it was enough to simply be together, under the vast, forgiving sky.

As the night wore on, I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other. But it would take patience, understanding, and a lot of effort. I was willing to take it one day at a time.

Maybe it was the pure air of the village, away from the pollution and toxicity. My feeling became so peaceful, and I softened. We slept together that night, but not doing any sexual interaction, just cuddling.

The next day, I woke up alone at around 7 am. I wondered if Garet was downstairs, so I went down. It turned out to be true. He was sitting on the sofa, watching TV leisurely with Mom.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Mom teased when she saw me. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Yeah, it was great,” I replied. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well, I was thinking we could visit the local market after breakfast. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and I’m sure you’ll love to see what’s changed,” she suggested.

“That sounds perfect,” I agreed, feeling excited about spending the day with her.

“Can I come, too?” Garet asked.

“Of course.” Mom was overjoyed.

We headed to the market, and I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. The familiar sights, sounds, and smells brought back so many memories. We wandered through the stalls, picking out fresh produce and chatting with the vendors. Everyone seemed to know my mom, and they greeted us warmly.

Later, back at home, we spent the afternoon cooking together. We made a delicious vegetable stew with the ingredients we had bought at the market. As the aroma filled the house, I realized how much I had missed this—the comfort of homecooked meals and the warmth of my mom’s presence.

As evening approached, we sat on the porch, watching the sunset. The sky was a beautiful blend of oranges and pinks, and the air was cool and crisp. I felt a deep sense of gratitude for this time with my mom and the opportunity to reconnect with my roots.

“Thank you for everything, Mom,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence.

She smiled and squeezed my hand. “I’m just glad you’re here, Livy.”

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. This trip had been exactly what I needed to recharge and gain perspective. No matter what challenges awaited me back in the city, I knew I could face them with the strength and love I found here.

Around 9 PM, Mom felt sleepy and went to her room, so I did the same. Garet, however, decided to stay up and enjoy the night a bit longer.

I laid on the bed, checking my phone and replying to some messages, including one from Roxanne. I told her Garet had come over and we’d spent the day together.

I heard footsteps approaching. Garet walked into the room without saying a word, and neither did I. Then he looked at me with a strange smile.

“What?” I asked.

“Don’t you want to grant your mom’s wish?” he replied.

“Mom’s wish?”

“Yeah, giving her a grandchild.”

There was an awkward pause. I wasn’t prepared for this question and froze. Despite having a good time here, I still held a big grudge against him and didn’t fully trust him yet.

Without warning, he quickly held me tight and tried to kiss me. Part of me wanted to resist, but the other half didn’t. We hadn’t touched each other in months, and although my feelings for him had changed a lot, my body was still touchstarved.

Eventually, I gave in, and we had sex that night. It was really good.

Monday came, the last day of our stay at Mom’s house, and I wanted to make the most of it. Since Garet had brought his car, I suggested we visit the nearby waterfall and hot spring. Everyone agreed, so after a hearty breakfast, we set off in the morning.

Although it wasn’t far, the road was bumpy and narrow, so the car had to move slowly. We arrived an hour later.

The hot spring was nestled at the base of a hill, and if you hiked for 15 minutes, you’d find a beautiful waterfall. My mom and I used to come here every weekend back in the day.

“I’ll just enjoy soaking in the hot spring here. You two can go up if you want to,” Mom said.

“Alright, I wanna see the great waterfall,” Garet, who had never been here, replied.

So, I accompanied him up the hill. It was an easy trail with stairs and everything. We didn’t talk much during the hike; I was still embarrassed about last night. We were married, but since we’d been so distant, having sex with him felt like being with a stranger. Enjoyable, but awkward.

“Still far?” he asked as we walked.

“Nope, that’s the gate over there.” I pointed ahead.

When we arrived, there weren’t many visitors, probably because it was still morning. I sat on the edge of a big rock and dipped my feet into the water. Garet seemed in awe and took lots of pictures of the waterfall. Then he asked me to stand up so he could take a picture of me with the waterfall in the background. I was in a good mood, so I agreed and struck several poses.

Finally, we took some pictures together, smiling and doing silly poses like a newlywed couple on their honeymoon.

After we’d had our fill of the waterfall, we headed back down to the hot spring. Mom was still enjoying her soak, so I joined her. The sauna and hot spring made me feel completely relaxed, especially since I got to chat and catch up with Mom.

We then had lunch at the hot spring’s restaurant.

“You guys are heading back today?” Mom asked, taking a sip of her chamomile tea.

“Yeah, today, Mom,” I said, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving her.

“I wish you could stay longer.”

“I wish we could too. Everything here feels so much better.”

“Well, that’s why I have no intention of moving to the city,” Mom replied with a smile.

“It’s okay. We’ll come back next month,” Garet chimed in.

I smiled, but inside, I couldn’t shake a deep sense of sadness, as if this might be the last time I’d see Mom.