The Neglected Wife's Spectacular Artistic Comeback

Caitlin walked into the master bedroom and casually closed the door behind her. The door rattled softly, sounding like a gunshot in the silent apartment. She let the suitcase crash onto the floor, leaning against the cold door, her eyes tightly shut, struggling to control the intense trembling of her hands. Inhale. Exhale.

In the mirror of the walk-in closet, a pale, tormented stranger was reflected. She met the stranger's gaze, a flicker of unyielding light deep in her eyes. She won't break down. Not here, not now.

She turned to the walk-in closet, her movements precise and cautious. Skipping her usual preference for soft and comfortable dresses, she took off a black fitted dress. Concise, elegant, and solemn. A piece of armor.

She sat down at the dressing table and methodically wiped away the fatigue from her face. Cover dark circles under the eyes, refine the contours of the cheekbones, and shape the brows well. The last item is a bright crimson lipstick. A declaration of challenge, a declaration of sovereignty: I am the wife.

When she came out, Julian and Ava were already waiting in the living room. Their gazes fell on her at the same time. A flash of amazed admiration flashed in Julian's eyes—that was the look he used to give her years ago. Ava's smile stiffened a little, and became even more forced.

Julien's chosen restaurant is a Michelin three-star French restaurant, a quiet hall of fine dining. That kind of place had to be booked weeks in advance, just for special occasions—ones he had already forgotten.

Inside the car, the tense atmosphere seemed tangible. Caitlin slid into the front passenger seat, letting Julian and Ava sit in the back. It was a small, insignificant gesture, yet it drew a clear boundary.

She saw through the side mirror Julian naturally open the car door for Ava after getting out—an unintentional intimacy. Then he walked around to the driver's side, completely forgetting about her, until the driver cleared his throat and signaled for her car door.

Once inside the dining room, the foreman led them to a secluded corner table. Julian, as always, a gentleman, pulled out a chair for Ava. It wasn't until he reached halfway up his seat that he seemed to remember Caitlin, and she had already sat down by herself. The corners of her mouth, painted with red lipstick, twitched slightly.

Neglect follows one after another, as fine as paper, but every cut bleeds.

When the waiter arrived, Julian remembered that Ava hated cilantro and guided her to avoid fish. But he didn't remember that Caitlyn was slightly allergic to shellfish; instead, he recommended lobster chowder to her.

"I'll just order a risotto." Caitlin calmly told the waiter, ignoring the flicker of displeasure on Julian's face.

Conversations at the dinner table became a weapon, and she was the target. They talked about work, a new merger case, and colleagues she had never met before. At her own wedding anniversary dinner, she became an outsider, a silent bystander in their relaxed and tacit understanding.

"Caitlin, you must be exhausted from traveling." Ava's voice was full of false sympathy. "Unlike me, I see Julian in the office every day." —This was a boasting disguised as polite formality.

Caitlin took a light sip of wine. "That was work, not vacation. Some of us know how to separate work from personal matters. ”

Ava's face turned slightly pale.

Julian frowned. "Caitlin, Ava is just trying to make sense."

The stewed rice was served. That's the restaurant's signature dish, rich in black truffle. Caitlin learned from a remark Julian once casually mentioned that Ava was allergic to mushrooms. But this was a famous dish, so it was perfectly reasonable for her to order it.

Ava stared at the plate, her face a mix of longing and fear. She leaned toward Julian, her voice lowered, as if plotting. "It smells really good." Unfortunately, I can't eat it. ”

Julian immediately turned to Caitlyn, his tone almost commanding. "Can you order something else? The truffle scent is strong and might make Ava uncomfortable. ”

Caitlin lifted her head from the plate, and the fork stopped in midair. This shamelessness left her breathless. "This is my dinner, Julian. Just because she can't eat doesn't mean I can't. ”

Before Julian could respond, Ava did something unexpected. She leaned over the table, her fork swiftly extending like a snake's tongue, and scooped a grain of rice from Caitlin's plate.

"I'll just have a small bite." She said with a playful smile. "It's nothing."

It happened so fast that neither of them could stop her.

Caitlyn's eyes widened. In that carefully calculated move, she saw the entire strategy—one move to the death.

In less than a minute, Ava started coughing. First a mild, delicate cough, followed by intense, spasmodic gasping. Breathing becomes rapid. Red patches quickly spread across her neck and face.

"Ava!" Julian suddenly stood up, the chair scraping sharply against the floor. "What's wrong?" Have you forgotten that you have a severe allergy? ”

Ava collapsed weakly in his arms, clutching her throat and gasping for breath. "I just ...... Caitlyn looks amazing...... I couldn't help but ......"

Julian suddenly turned his head, his face icy and furious. He stared at Caitlyn, his voice low and vicious, like a roar that broke the quiet whispers in the restaurant.

"You know she's allergic. Are you doing this on purpose? ”

This accusation hit her like a heavy blow. He held another woman in his arms, a woman who had just poisoned himself, yet he blamed her.

The diners at the neighboring table were all watching, their curious gazes turning into judgment. Shame is like a scorching and suffocating blanket.

Julian didn't wait for her answer. He held Ava in his arms, her head softly resting on his shoulder. "We need to go to the hospital immediately!" He shouted, already rushing toward the exit.

Then, she was alone.

She sat alone at the table reserved for the three of them—for the anniversary he had already forgotten. The truffle risotto was placed before her, its rich aroma now filled with betrayal.

The food was still warm, but her heart was completely and irretrievably cold.