There was a small mole above his right
eyebrow.
く
As a child, I used to poke it with my finger,
saying I’d marked him as mine forever.
Now, the thought felt bitterly ironic.
His phone buzzed. He glanced down. His left
eyebrow twitched, and a faint smile played on
his lips.
It was the expression he wore when he was
happy, an expression I hadn’t seen directed at
me in ages.
My heart sank. I had a terrible suspicion who
the message was from.
He put away his phone. “Chloe, I have to go
out. Alex is drunk. I need to pick him up.”
“Alex? Which Alex?” I asked, even though I
knew.
“Just…my buddy. You know him.”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Liam, can
you please not go?”
“Chloe, what’s gotten into you? Alex is drunk.
I can’t just leave him.”
“Liam, please don’t go,” I repeated, my voice
trembling.
He sighed, stroking my cheek. His tone was
gentle, but dismissive. “Don’t be silly, Chloe.
I’ll be back soon.”
He grabbed his jacket and hurried out.
Moments later, a notification popped up:
“LilBoat posted a new story.”
It was a video of her sitting seductively on a
man’s lap.
The caption: “I don’t shoot for the moon. I
expect the moon to come to me.”
At the end of the video, a man’s hand
reached out and stroked her hair.
It was a fleeting glimpse, but I recognized the
watch on his wrist.
It was the one I’d given Liam for our third
anniversary.
My hand trembled as I dialed his number. It
went straight to voicemail.
<
Frantically, I called again and again, but the
result was always the same.
Finally, the call connected. A woman’s voice,
laced with a playful whine, answered. “Liam,
what took you so long? I’ve been waiting
forever…”
My heart shattered. My hand, however,
steadily pressed the record button.
Liam’s voice was tender, the same way he
spoke to me. “How could I let you spend the
holiday alone? Don’t be mad, okay?”
The woman’s voice was laced with fake.
“I thought you weren’t coming! I planned a
special surprise…”
“Let me have a look at you. Let me make it
up to you tonight,” Liam cooed.
“Hmph, you’re all talk. You were clearly with
that old hag.”
“Silly girl, I’d never let you spend a holiday
alone. You’re the only one I truly care about.”
There were whispered intimacies then, and I
fought back nausea as I continued to listen.
“Liam, do you love me?” the woman asked
tentatively.
“Yes, of course I love you, baby…”
The call ended, and I numbly lowered my
phone, tears streaming down my face.
Liam came home early the next morning,
looking exhausted. He was carrying a
container of my favorite congee.
“Chloe, you’re awake? I couldn’t sleep
without you.” He looked contrite. “You look
terrible. Didn’t you sleep at all?”
I forced a smile. “I’m fine. I woke up when I
heard you come in.‘
“”
He hugged me, his chin resting on my head, just like he always did. “Alex got so wasted
last night. He threw up all over me, so I had
to crash at a hotel. Can you still smell it on
me?”
I played along. “Maybe a little. You should
take a shower.‘
99
He ruffled my hair and went into the
bathroom. I picked up the congee and ate it
slowly. Every word Liam spoke felt like a
needle piercing my heart. I was terrified of
sleeping alone, especially after the C–section.
I was constantly on edge, any little noise
waking me from my sleep. Liam knew this. He
always made sure to come home and sleep
next to me, no matter how busy he was. But
last night, knowing I would struggle to sleep
without him, he still hadn’t come home.
As I ate the warm congee, that phone call
started to feel surreal, like a bad dream.
Liam showered and went straight to bed. I got
up quietly and took his phone. The fingerprint
unlock worked; he’d never bothered to set up
any security against me. The chat history
ended with the woman reminding him to buy
her the morning–after pill. I opened his
shopping app. The order history was filled
with gifts for women: perfumes, bags,
makeup, even lingerie. They were all sent to
the same address. I clicked on the address
details. It was in the complex across the
street from us, so close, yet I’d been
completely oblivious.
I screen–recorded the chat logs and shopping
history, sending them to my own phone, then
meticulously deleted everything. I put his
phone back where it belonged. I watched
Liam sleep, the man I’d loved for so many
years, suddenly a stranger.
I took a cab to my mother–in–law’s house.
My son was staying with her, and although we
video chatted every day, I felt a desperate
need to hold him.
My mother–in–law was surprised to see me. “Chloe, what are you doing here? Where’s
Liam? That boy, he never tells me anything.”
I forced a smile. “He’s busy with work. I just
came by myself.” I inhaled my son’s sweet
baby scent, tears welling in my eyes. This was
my child, my flesh and blood, with Liam, but I
suddenly wasn’t sure if I could keep him.
“Mom,” I asked, my voice barely a whisper,
“did you ever think about divorce?”
My father–in–law had had an affair and
abandoned the family when Liam was only
six. My mother–in–law had stayed for Liam’s
sake, enduring it for decades.
She froze, her face stiffening. “What
nonsense are you talking about? We’re old
married folks. Divorce? What would people
say?”
“What about when you were younger?”
She looked at me, her gaze meaningful.
“Chloe, divorce is too hard on children. Even
for the children’s sake, a man’s mistakes can
<
be forgiven, don’t you think?”
