Betrayed Me for Love, Died Full of Regret

But from the room next door came only the obscene echoes of their heated entanglement.

“Brother Ace, are you really this obsessed with my body? I can’t take it anymore…”

“I spent thirty million on you—you’d better make it worth my while, little minx…”

“Ah… Brother Ace…”

By the time morning light poured in through the window, Ace finally unlocked the bathroom door.

“Have you realized your mistake?”

I was curled up on the floor, eyes swollen, hands trembling like leaves in the wind.

He frowned. “It was just a little time alone in the bathroom. Why do you look like I tortured you?”

As a child, I had been kidnapped by thugs. They locked me in a dog cage for three days and nights, tormenting me to squeeze ransom from my parents.

Since then, I could never bear small, confined spaces alone.

When Ace first found out, he had held me tight and whispered, “Wife, I swear. I’ll never let you go through that again.”

But now, just to shield his little childhood sweetheart, he had locked me in the bathroom overnight.

“Since you’re awake, come have some breakfast. Even if you don’t feel like eating, don’t starve the baby growing inside you.”

I struggled to get up, only to find the dining table bare except for a plate of meatloaf, my most despised food.

I took a reluctant bite, cold and tough.

Faye, having just finished her warm scrambled eggs, beamed at me with a bright smile.

“Sister Everly, Brother Ace is amazing in the kitchen! I only mentioned I wanted a sandwich and some scrambled eggs, and he made them all himself.”

“I’m so jealous. You get to enjoy Brother Ace’s homemade breakfast every day; you’re really lucky!”

Ace’s face stiffened, and he muttered awkwardly, “I’m tied up with billion-dollar deals every day. When would I have time to play house?”

The words lodged painfully in my throat.

Throughout our marriage, Ace always claimed his hands were meant for signing billion-dollar deals, not for chopping vegetables or kitchen chores.

Even when I was burning with fever, he never once crossed into the kitchen, let alone made me scrambled eggs.

What I had never tasted or enjoyed came so effortlessly to Faye.

Perhaps feeling a twinge of guilt over last night, Ace suggested we go out for a candlelit dinner.

I thought maybe this was my chance to finally bring up the subject of divorce.

Once inside the car, my hand brushed against a pink lace nightgown.

Ace’s expression shifted instantly, but without missing a beat, he lied, “It’s a gift I got for you. Do you like it?”

I glanced at the suspicious, damp stains and smiled quietly.

Ace hurried to explain, “Faye saw it last time and said she’d never worn anything so feminine before, so I let her try it on. She spilled some water, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” I cut him off, “Just tell me when we get there.”

He scrolled through several restaurant options, his brow furrowing as he stared at his phone in dissatisfaction.

It wasn’t until a message popped up from a contact saved as “Baby Faye” that Ace’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.

My eyes dimmed. We had known each other for ten years, yet he had never once given me a nickname, always using my full name. He said long-married couples didn’t need excessive affection.

But Faye was always the exception, forever his favorite.

Finally, we settled into a cozy restaurant.

Suddenly, Faye appeared, dragging along a stranger. “Wow! I told Brother Ace this afternoon to take you out on a date to make it up to you, and he followed through so fast! This place is totally my style, too!”

She shot me a sour smile. “Such a perfect, thoughtful man is rare, Sister Everly. I’m so jealous! Poor me, stuck going on blind dates to find someone…”