Behind Closed Doors

When I returned home after a week away, I discovered Max had not been home at all. Instead, Coco showed up at my door, carrying Max's Louis Vuitton suitcase with a triumphant smirk.

She said, "Suri, Mr. Davis has been so busy. He almost fainted at the office, and I—"

I looked at her, saying, "So he fainted at the office?"

Coco smiled sweetly as she replied, "No, Mr. Davis is resting at my place. I'm just here to get his clothes."

I did not let her step in. Instead, I gestured for the housekeeper to pack Max's clothes while keeping Coco outside. From tailored suits to loungewear, from spring to winter pieces—everything went into the suitcase until it was too heavy for her to carry.

Even so, she was not giving up. Struggling under the weight, she suddenly stopped in her tracks and marched back toward me with a gleaming smile.

"Suri, you've known Mr. Davis for so long. He always bites me when he gets intimate with me. Look at this—why does he do that?"

She tilted her head, clearly hoping to provoke me.

I chuckled. "Probably because he's a dog and likes gnawing on bones."

Coco's face darkened as she glared at me before storming off. As I turned to go inside, I called out, "Thanks for taking his luggage—and taking out the trash while you're at it!"

Life was peaceful without Max until my lawyer delivered the draft divorce papers. Unable to reach Max, I had to go to his office.

When I arrived, neither Max nor Coco were there. The receptionist mentioned they were at Disneyland.

The manager tried to brief me on company matters, but I waved him off. "I'm just dropping something off."

However, I froze in shock when I opened the door to Max's office. The once minimalist black-and-white decor was then splashed with color, the artwork replaced by intimate photos of Max and Coco.

A corner of the room had been converted into a mini-suite, complete with a bed, shower, and—shockingly—a pair of pink lingerie hung on the wall. The curtains were stained, and there was an unmistakable odor permeating the space.

The manager looked at me uncomfortably. "Mr. Davis occasionally rests here," he explained awkwardly.

"Then maybe he should keep it clean, especially for client meetings," I said, glancing at him. "This place reeks. Can't you smell it?"

I straightened a photo frame, noticing our wedding photo had been replaced with one of Max and Coco. Meanwhile, my photo lay discarded in a corner.

I picked up our photo, cut myself out of it, and tucked it into my purse. Then, I left the divorce papers in Max's desk drawer, asking the manager to make sure Max saw them.

Walking out, I took a deep breath and smiled at the manager. "The air's so much better out here."

The manager seemed to relax. "It really is."

On my way home, the cold wind gave me a headache. I absentmindedly scrolled through social media and stumbled upon Coco's post. She was showing off their date at the city's most exclusive fine-dining restaurant—Max's favorite place.

Not only did she flaunt the food, but she also shared a glimpse of Max's face and the gifts and flowers he had given her. It was a typical post of someone in the honeymoon phase of their relationship.

Of course, anyone who knew Macx could recognize him. Her caption even read, [True love is two hopeless romantics finding happiness together.]

I quickly screenshot everything—she was handing me evidence on a silver platter.

Halfway home, a wave of dizziness hit me. Remembering my doctor's orders, I reached for my medication but could barely swallow it. It was so bad that my driver had to help me inside.

After swallowing the medicine, I collapsed on the couch and drifted into a deep sleep.

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder. Opening my eyes, I found Max's furious face looming over me.

"Suri, what the hell is wrong with you? She treated me to a meal at my favorite restaurant to cheer me up. Why did you like her post? Are you stalking her? How pathetic can you get?"