Chapter 3

3

Rosalie dropped me off at a busy downtown intersection before speeding away.

Watching her car disappear into the evening traffic, my heart sank, mirroring the gloomy sky above.

A sudden rumble of thunder shook the air, and heavy raindrops began pouring down.

The cold drops hit my face, blending with the bitter moisture in the corners of my eyes.

She seemed to have completely forgotten that this intersection was impossible for hailing a cab in the rain.

I walked through the downpour for nearly a mile, drenched to the bone, before finally catching a ride home.

Between the exhaustion of the previous night and the emotional shock, a high fever gripped me as soon as I collapsed into bed.

In my hazy, feverish state, I vaguely heard Rosalie’s gentle, worried voice by my bedside.

“Declan, how are you feeling? Does your head hurt?”

She placed a cool, tender hand against my burning forehead.

She brought me fever medication, wiped my face with a damp towel, and helped me change out of my wet clothes.

When I opened my eyes and saw the genuine concern in her gaze, a sharp pain tore through my chest.

I turned my head away, holding back the burning lump in my throat. “I feel a bit better.”

“Why did you come back so soon?”

She stroked my hair affectionately. “Because you are sick.”

“How could I possibly focus on work when you are like this? I canceled everything to take care of you.”

While she spoke, her phone began buzzing frantically on the nightstand.

Rosalie glanced at the screen and immediately hit decline.

“Someone is calling you. Aren't you going to answer?” I asked weakly.

“You are my top priority, Declan. Everything else can wait.”

She brought over a warm bowl of chicken soup, gently blowing on the spoon so it would not burn my tongue.

“Here, take a few sips first.”

“Drink the soup, take your pills, and get some rest.”

Before I could swallow more than two spoonfuls, her phone lit up again, vibrating relentlessly.

This time, she clicked open the text message.

Her eyes widened, and she stood up so abruptly that her elbow knocked the spoon straight out of my hand.

The hot soup splashed across my knuckles, making me wince from the sharp burn.

Yet her attention was entirely glued to her phone screen as she spoke in a frantic rush.

“Declan, my assistant says a high-profile client is throwing a fit at the office.”

“I have to go calm them down in person. I will be right back, okay?”

When people are sick, they are naturally vulnerable.

I grabbed the hem of her sleeve, my voice raspy and pleading.

“Can’t someone else cover for you? I really want you to stay with me tonight...”

Rosalie tucked the blanket around my shoulders, but firmly peeled my fingers away from her sleeve.

“Declan, be good.”

“Take your medicine, get some sleep, and I will be back before you know it.”

She placed a small handful of strawberry hard candies next to my pills on the nightstand.

Ever since we were teenagers, she had always given me sweets because I hated the bitter taste of medicine.

She reminded me repeatedly to take the pills before grabbing a bottle of antiseptic spray from our first-aid kit.

The sound of the front door clicking shut extinguished the last bit of warmth in the bedroom.

I pushed myself up and pulled out my phone to access the live camera feed.

It was connected to the hidden peephole camera I had discreetly installed earlier that morning.

On the screen, Rosalie walked out of our apartment and stepped directly toward the opposite door.

Garrett opened his door shirtless, holding up an index finger that had a small scratch on it.

Rosalie examined his finger tenderly before wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

She tilted her head up, whispering something with a flirtatious pout.

Garrett broke into a wide grin, pulled her flush against his chest, and buried his lips into hers.

They made out against the hallway wall with frantic, breathless passion.

A moment later, Garrett swept her up into his arms and carried her straight into his apartment, slamming the door shut.

I stared at the screen, a crushing agony squeezing my heart until I could barely breathe.

Just then, my phone buzzed with an urgent notification from our building’s resident chat group.

I glanced at the announcement, pulled on a jacket, and walked out into the stairwell.

Five minutes later, the building’s pre-scheduled fire drill alarm blared through the corridors and speakers.

I stood in the center of the first-floor courtyard, quietly opening my phone’s video camera.

Moments later, Garrett came barreling out of the lobby doors, carrying a barely dressed Rosalie in his arms.

The moment Rosalie saw me standing under the courtyard lights, she let out a sharp, horrified shriek.

She desperately pulled her flimsy robe over her chest and buried her face into Garrett’s shoulder.

A second later, realization hit her, and she shoved Garrett away in a panic.

For the first time in ten years, her composed, elegant face was completely overtaken by raw guilt.

“Declan, let me explain...”

I ignored her completely, shifting my cold gaze to the young man who had his arms wrapped around her waist.

“Garrett, does sleeping with another man’s wife give you the adrenaline rush you were looking for?”

Garrett froze, words catching in his throat.

Rosalie stepped in front of him, furrowing her brows as she tried to defend him.

“Declan, you are misunderstanding everything...”

I looked at her disheveled state one last time, then calmly slipped my phone into my pocket.

“Save your breath, Rosalie. Let’s get a divorce.”

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