Three Chances Too Late

"Emmett doesn't eat spicy food. He is also going on a diet. Pay more attention to what you cook. By the way, he likes salmon. Go to the supermarket and get a slice of fresh salmon."

Emmett flashed a demure yet smug smile. "Thank you, Julian. Oh, Kim, by the way, I'm also craving some other seafood."

Kim rolled her eyes at him and coquettishly grumbled, "You picky brat."

But then, she turned to me and ordered, "What are you still standing here for? Go and get the ingredients! Didn't you say you needed the money for your father's surgery? Just be good, and I'll transfer the money to you soon."

She was so sure that I would take the humiliation just for my father.

Then, she held Emmett's hand and led him into the master bedroom. I could hear muffled laughter and teasing coming from inside.

Looking at the shut door. I suddenly found this entire situation rather absurd.

I no longer need the money, Kim. Not now, not ever.

I picked up the divorce papers that Kim rejected, subconsciously rubbing my fingers together on the title.

I heard their conversation coming from the bedroom mixed with laughter.

"Kim, what happens if you have a son? I want a daughter."

"Then, we'll have more babies. I'll make sure you'll be satisfied."

I smiled self-deprecatingly. So, this was the accident that she claimed to have happened?

…

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a reply from the director, Albert Shaw.

[Happy that you're willing to join this secret project, but you'll need to be away for at least five years. Can your wife accept this?]

[It's fine. I'm about to get a divorce.]

Albert's reply came quickly. He replied with a cautious sense of relief, saying that he was seeing Kim's rumors on the news most of the days and how he long thought that we weren't quite suited for each other.

My nose burned when I saw his concern.

In the past, I would always be the first one to step up and defend her. But things were no longer the past. Everything changed.

In the past, even if there was a whiff of rumor, no matter how tiny it was, she would immediately clarify on social media. She was worried that I would be mistaken.

Yet, at that moment, the artistic nudes she took with Emmett were spread on the internet far and wide. In the photos, the wedding ring, which she never took off, was nowhere to be seen.

This perhaps started from the first time she mentioned Emmett with reminiscence and adoration.

"Do you know Emmett Stone, the one from the most recent pageant competition? He really looked like you when you were younger."

From that day onward, all of her adoration and love for me was redirected to this perfect substitute.

I dimmed the screen of my phone and inserted it back into my pocket.

In the end, I headed into the kitchen, only because it was my birthday that day. I thought of it as cooking one last meal for us.

Once it was done, the entire place smelled wonderful. I walked over to the master bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Dinner's ready."

The only response I got was the sound of muffled and intimate moaning.

I frowned and opened the door, only to see a torn black lace bra on the floor.

I let out a silent, bitter laugh. I was the one who bought it for her, thinking it could help add a little spark to our marriage.

However, no matter how I begged her to wear it, she refused, saying that it was too embarrassing.

Yet, at that moment, even when she was pregnant, she would happily accommodate Emmett.

How ironic.

A shirt mixed with filth and the sharp scent of cologne was thrown straight at my face.

"You're here just in time. Emmett's shirt is dirty. It's quite an expensive shirt, so it has to be hand-washed. Wash it and hang it up to dry."

I pulled the shirt off my head. The rancid, filthy stench rushed straight into my nose, making my stomach churn.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I threw the disgusting shirt on the floor.