Chapter 3

That night, as usual, Liam lay on his side, holding me as we fell asleep.

In the past, his heavy arm gave me a sense of security.

Now I felt suffocated, his arm weighing heavily on me, making it hard to breathe.

I couldn't sleep, lying awake until dawn.

At 5 AM, I got up and went to the kitchen to make breakfast for him.

I cleaned the shrimp I had bought yesterday, carefully removing the veins, then finely chopped them into a paste to make plump little wontons.

The eight-treasure porridge in the pot had been simmering for nearly three hours. The five different types of beans were soft and mushy.

When Liam got up at 8 AM, I had already packed his breakfast.

He loved to sleep in but didn't want his employees to think their boss was always late. Every day he arrived at the company just in time.

To prevent him from going hungry or eating carelessly, I always carefully prepared his breakfast for him to take to the office.

He said I spoiled him like a child, that he wouldn't be able to live without me.

I saw him off at the door, carefully reminding him: "This porridge is good for your stomach, drink it while it's hot. I cooked the wontons separately and put them in a container. Just pour them into the soup when you're ready to eat."

Liam was putting on his shoes when he leaned in for a kiss.

I didn't want any contact with him, but I couldn't let him suspect anything and ruin my plans.

I had to suppress my disgust and let my cheek brush against his lips, wet with the scent of his minty aftershave.

As soon as he stepped out, I immediately closed the door, rushed to the bathroom, and frantically washed my face.

I scrubbed the side of my face he had kissed with alcohol repeatedly until it was red and burning.

Looking at myself in the mirror, my eyes were full of hatred and pain.

Liam Westbrook, I will make you pay for this.

First, I needed to find out the identity of the woman Liam was cheating with.

I searched for her phone number on SnapChat. Her profile picture was a selfie - a very young woman.

After confirming it was her real number, I saved it to my contacts.

I opened Instagram and quickly found her account among my suggested friends.

A recent college graduate in her early 20s, with a rich and handsome boyfriend who loved her, a blissful expectant mother.

But her most recent status update was posted at midnight last night:

"When will you truly belong to me?"

The photo showed a full-body pregnancy shot with her face hidden.

It seems she knows she's the other woman but is eager to become Liam's official wife.

However, judging by how Liam is keeping this from me, he doesn't intend to make her his wife.

At noon, I went to the company to bring Liam lunch, carrying a carefully prepared gout-inducing meal.

I rarely come to the company, so much so that the new receptionist didn't recognize me and stopped me from going upstairs.

One phone call and Liam came down to get me himself.

"Honey, it's ridiculous that I can't even enter our own company," I complained, putting on a hurt expression. "I want to go back to work in the design department. I don't want to feel like I have no value."

Liam hesitated. "Weren't you focusing on your health? Work is too tiring."

I lowered my eyes and sighed. "After so many failed IVF attempts over the years, I'm exhausted. Maybe it's fate that I'm not meant to have children."

"Honey, I've told you before, I don't care if we have kids or not. It's fine if it's just the two of us for life," he said, his face full of sincerity.

Seeing his hypocritical act, I could barely keep up my own facade.

But I knew that lashing out would only satisfy my emotions momentarily and do no good in the long run.

"I've been doing IVF non-stop for three years. My body can't take it anymore. I want to take a break," I said.

Liam looked at me with pity in his eyes. Seeing the emotional card was working, I made my real request:

"Honey, I want to come back to work at the company. Let me take charge of the design department."