No More Waiting for Summer's Final Fireworks

In the darkness, the impatience in his eyes burned brighter than lightning.

After the child fell asleep, he got up first and headed back to the bedroom. "I have an early meeting tomorrow. You stay with him."

"Don’t bother with breakfast for me. Just focus on taking care of our son."

I wasn’t always a stay-at-home wife.

In the beginning, just like David, I prioritized my career.

We dated through college, got internships, secured full-time jobs, married, and had a child—everything seemed smooth, but in reality, it was me who kept making concessions.

Step by step, I gave up my job to devote myself entirely to taking care of him and our child, ensuring he could work and advance without any worries.

Now, he’s the head of a subsidiary.

David left early in the morning without his usual goodbye.

Still, I prepared dinner for him as always.

Around 8 p.m., my phone buzzed.

David: Business trip. Pack my luggage. Pickup in 30 mins.

His tone was no different from assigning a work task.

I was used to it.

All these years, I’ve been the one packing for him, preparing everything.

When I dragged the suitcase downstairs at the appointed time, I saw Ella in the passenger seat adjusting the radio.

She smiled at me sweetly. "Elizabeth!"

Then, with an apologetic sigh, she added, "I’m still new to the internship and don’t know much. David said he’d take me along to broaden my horizons."

"An intern traveling with the CEO?" My grip on the suitcase handle tightened, veins faintly visible.

David glanced at me. "I’m just teaching her how to write reports on the way."

His fingers tapped a light rhythm on the steering wheel—a telltale sign of his good mood.

In the past, he would go to great lengths for me. But now, he could barely hide his weariness when dealing with me.

I suddenly remembered how, early in his career, he once drank until he had a stomach hemorrhage with a client, yet still dragged himself up at 3 a.m. to cook congee for me.

Or how, after his first promotion, he booked an entire revolving restaurant and projected our wedding photos on loop just to make me happy.

Back then, his heart and eyes were filled with only me.

But later, he started frequently changing female companions.

At first, of course, I fought with him relentlessly.

But for the sake of our child, our life, and so-called reputation, I ended up compromising—over and over again.

Just like with this new intern.

One after another.

I never took it seriously before. But this time, I could tell—David was serious.

The way he doted on Ella was exactly like how he once pursued me.

On the second day of his business trip, Ella suddenly added me on Facebook.

"Elizabeth, David wears XL boxers, right?" A message popped up, accompanied by a photo of a messy hotel room, a man’s dress shirt scattered by the bathtub.

She followed up: "He drank too much and threw up. He has no clean clothes left. Elizabeth, everything’s soaked. I’ll have to go buy him new ones."

She played the innocent.

In the days that followed, Ella kept updating her Facebook with posts about David.

I tried to resist looking, but I couldn’t help myself.

A nine-grid photo set titled "Watching the sunrise with David" showed her wrapped in his suit jacket, beaming.

A video from the "Celebration Banquet" captured him pausing mid-shrimp-peeling to drop it into her bowl.

A few days later, David called and asked me to pick him up at the airport.

It was pouring. I got drenched while waiting.

The flight was delayed. Holding an umbrella, I stood at the arrival gate for what felt like forever before finally spotting him—with Ella.

His suit jacket was still draped over her shoulders.