The Wife and Her Adulterer

Watching a video on my phone, I felt disgusted.

I realized the time and knew the rendezvous shouldn't be over yet.

Suddenly, I wanted to play with them.

In the underground parking lot, I saw a black Cullinan shaking at a glance.

I approached and knocked on the window.

Inside, the movement stopped abruptly.

An impatient voice came out, "Who is it? Can't you see I'm busy?"

Hearing the familiar voice, I couldn't help but clench my fists.

I shouted, "Mr. Webber, it's me, Erik. I saw your car shaking and came to check."

There was silence before the window lowered halfway, revealing Will's annoyed face.

He forced a smile, "Oh, Erik. I'm talking to my wife."

I was furious.

The person inside was my wife.

Pretending embarrassment, I apologized but was suddenly alerted by a woman's voice from the car.

Turning serious, I asked, "Why does Mrs. Webber sound different?"

His face drained of color as he stuttered, "I... she..."

"Is she catching a cold?" I continued with a smile.

He let out a long sigh of relief and nodded repeatedly.

Returning to the banquet hall, Catherine rushed toward me, breathing heavily and flushed.

"Honey, I'm a bit uncomfortable. Let's go home," she said.

Seeing my plan had succeeded, I didn't press her.

Instead, I made one last request, "Sure, but let's toast Mr. Webber before we leave."