Chapter 2

2.

The next morning, I received an email from Dean Maxwell of a prestigious university abroad: "We would be honored to welcome you to our faculty."

During an academic conference months ago, Maxwell had personally invited me to teach at his institution.

He told me many students were eager to learn Asian history, and the department desperately needed a passionate scholar like me.

When Janelle first found out about the offer back then, she had stared at me silently until her eyes welled with tears.

Seeing her like that, my burning ambition had instantly cooled down, and I turned down the dream for her.

Yesterday, before she came home, I had emailed Dean Maxwell back, confirming my acceptance.

Sharing historical culture with the world was my lifelong calling.

Even if my contribution was modest, I wanted to pour my soul into it.

I had buried my dreams for Janelle's sake. Now, I could finally pursue them without any lingering regrets.

After finishing my morning lecture, I walked into the department chair's office with my resignation letter.

He was visibly surprised.

He knew why I had turned down Maxwell in the past.

I gave a bitter smile without going into messy details, simply stating that my personal plans had changed.

The chair was a perceptive man and didn't press further.

He signed the paperwork and looked up. "There are three days left in the month. Hand over your tasks before you go."

As I stepped out of the office, my phone buzzed with a friend request on my messaging app.

The profile picture was the bare back of a woman.

On her left shoulder blade was a tattoo of a red koi fish.

Janelle had the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot.

She had gotten it on the second day of our marriage, telling me I was her lucky charm who brought light into her life.

After a moment of silence, I tapped accept.

Within seconds, the account sent over a picture.

It was Janelle lying on a table, getting a half-finished lily tattooed across her lower abdomen.

Right after the photo came an audio file.

It was Janelle's breathless, sultry moan.

"Baby... aside from my legal title, everything he has belongs to you."

I replayed the audio file over and over in a trance.

It wasn't until a colleague asked why my eyes were bloodshot that I realized tears were streaming down my face.

I forced a yawn and blamed it on a sleepless night.

That evening, Janelle didn't get home until almost midnight.

After she stepped out of the bathroom, I pointed directly at her lower stomach.

"When did you get that tattoo?"

Janelle yanked her shirt down in a panic, her eyes darting nervously.

"Oh, I went with my best friend yesterday. She loves lilies, so I got one to match her."

Even though I no longer expected honesty from her, hearing the casual lie slip past her lips still pierced my heart.

I let out a dry, mocking chuckle.

"What's so special about lilies anyway?"

Janelle giggled nervously and teased, "Are you jealous of my bestie?"

I said nothing and walked straight into the bedroom.

She tried to follow, but her phone suddenly blasted with a ringtone so loud it rattled the room.

A minute after answering, her face turned pale, then dark.

She blurted out that she had to go and immediately reached for her shoes.

Before she could open the door, I caught her arm. "Where are you going this late?"

Janelle paused for a split second, then yanked her arm away impatiently, claiming there was an emergency at work.

I, who had always supported her unconditionally, asked an unprecedented question. "Do you really have to go?"

Janelle frowned, seemingly baffled by my persistence.

I offered no explanation, merely staring deeply into her eyes.

A hint of hesitation flickered across her face.

But just as she wavered, the phone rang again.

The panicked voice of a young man came through the receiver, crystal clear in the quiet hallway.

Janelle's hesitation vanished into thin air.

She shoved my hand off and snapped coldly, "Flynn, stop throwing a tantrum. Grow up."

Looking into her chilly eyes, I suddenly laughed out loud.

"I'm sorry. I crossed the line."

Janelle looked startled by my calm apology.

Yet when the phone chimed once more, she turned on her heel and bolted out the door without looking back.

After she left, I booked a one-way flight for two days later.

Then, I set a 48-hour countdown widget on my home screen.