Chapter 1

1

In the sixth year of our marriage, Callan Lockwood gave my family heirloom to his little assistant.

The assistant posted a cozy photo of them on her Instagram to show off.

【I heard this is an heirloom meant only for the Lockwood family's daughter-in-law~】

I saw it and my finger slipped, giving it a like.

Callan called me soon after, with the assistant's whimpering voice audible in the background.

He scolded me for being unreasonable and claimed I couldn't take a joke.

If this had been the old me, I would have screamed and demanded an apology.

But this time, I was truly exhausted.

It was past midnight, and Callan still wasn't home.

I stood up and tossed the ice-cold dinner and the cake I'd baked myself into the trash.

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary.

He had promised to be home.

I waited until the early hours of the morning, but he never showed, and his phone was off.

If I hadn't seen Jaya Mins's post, I would have thought he was in a car wreck.

I was cleaning up the living room, ready to head to bed, when Callan finally walked in.

He reeked of alcohol and a suffocatingly sweet perfume.

I recognized it instantly―it was Jaya's favorite scent.

For the smell to be that strong on him, they had to have been very close.

He saw me and tossed his coat into my arms. "I feel like crap. Make me some detox soup."

I dropped his jacket onto the sofa. "I'm tired. Make it yourself."

Callan grabbed my wrist, raising an eyebrow.

"Still mad? You're taking this too seriously. It was just a game of Truth or Dare."

He was talking about Jaya's post.

I looked at him and said calmly, "I'm not mad."

I really wasn't. I just didn't want to serve him like a maid anymore.

Callan frowned when he saw I wasn't backing down.

"Fine, I get it. It's about the bracelet, right?"

"Jaya liked it, so I let her wear it for a few days. It's not a big deal."

I stared at him, feeling like this man I had shared a bed with for six years was a total stranger.

Callan's mother always felt I wasn't good enough for him.

She never once mentioned a family heirloom meant for his wife.

I found out about it by accident later on.

To appease me, Callan promised he would get it from her no matter what.

He did get it.

But he didn't give it to me. He gave it to Jaya.

An assistant he had known for barely three months.

The next morning, Callan actually got up early to cook in the kitchen.

When I walked out of the bedroom, I saw his silhouette busy at the stove.

He heard me and turned around.

"You're up. I made breakfast. Let's eat."

I sat at the table and watched him pack freshly made seafood porridge into a thermal container.

"Callan, I'd like some of that porridge," I said softly.

He froze for a second and gave an awkward cough.

"I made you a sandwich and some hot milk. Eat that instead."

He set the plate in front of me.

It was just two slices of bread with some peanut butter smeared in between.

The bread wasn't even toasted, and the peanut butter looked like the jar I'd bought ages ago―probably expired.

As for the milk...

I gripped the glass and looked up at him. "I'm severely lactose intolerant."

Because of my allergy, there hadn't been milk in this house for years.

But recently, Jaya had mentioned in a group chat that she preferred milk over coffee.

Suddenly, a carton appeared in our fridge.

Callan looked like he just remembered. "Then just eat the sandwich."

I glanced at the thermal container.

The seafood porridge inside looked like it had taken hours of careful preparation.

I didn't say a word, nor did I touch the sandwich. I just stood up.

"I have a board meeting at the office today. Let's head out together."

Callan's brow furrowed. "I have to pick up Jaya on the way. You should just call an Uber."

On the way?

I almost laughed at his audacity.

Our house and Jaya's apartment were in opposite directions.

It wasn't a shortcut; it was a massive detour.

Callan would rather go out of his way for her than give his own wife a ride.