### Chapter 2
The moment we got home, Dick went straight to the kitchen to make me a soup for my stomach.
Even the housekeeper teased him：“A man as good as Mr. Simmons is hard to find.”
“He treats you this well before the wedding. Once you're married with children, he'd probably pluck the stars right out of the sky for you.”
Dick came out carrying the soup, caught the tail end of that, and smiled with what looked like pure adoration.
“Why wait for the wedding? If Emily wants a star, I'll buy her one right now.”
He set the soup down and made a phone call.
A few minutes later, he sat down and pulled me into his arms：“Tomorrow night, I'm taking my baby to see the star that's all yours.”
Then he sent the housekeeper off to bed, blew on the soup to cool it, and lifted the spoon to my lips himself.
That was when his phone chimed.
Dick frowned, set the bowl down with visible irritation：“Who's bothering me this late when I'm with you? Let me see who needs a lesson.”
He picked up the phone. Two seconds later, I clearly saw the flicker of lust surface in his eyes.
Sure enough, he snapped the phone shut, guilt already arranged across his face.
“Baby, you're not feeling well tonight, and I should be here with you, but something urgent came up at the office……”
I didn't want to hear another lie. I cut him off.
“Go. Work is important.”
Dick exhaled with relief. He dropped a perfunctory kiss on my forehead, went to the bedroom, threw on a shirt so fast he didn't even notice the buttons were misaligned, and was out the door.
The front door clicked shut, and the living room sank into a silence like death. I stared at the soup on the table, already cold. Then I reached over and swept it into the trash, bowl and all.
I opened the refrigerator and took out a birthday cake.
I lit the candles and, just before midnight struck, made my wish.
“Happy birthday, Emily. May every day after you leave Dick Simmons be a happy one.”
Seven years together, and this was the first time he'd forgotten my birthday.
I blew out the candles. In the darkness, my phone screen flickered to life.
An unknown number. Several photos.
A young woman in a bunny outfit that covered almost nothing, posing in ways that were bold beyond imagination.
The message underneath was pure provocation.
“Tell me, after seeing these, do you think he'd rather spend a wild night with me, or go home to a stiff, boring old woman like you?”
I didn't reply. I saved every photo.
Dick didn't come back until the following afternoon.
The moment he walked into the living room, he saw me sorting through things.
He froze, eyes moving to the mountain of cardboard boxes：“Emily, what are you doing?”
I didn't look up：“Getting rid of things I don't need.”
I'd been up all night, scrolling through Tania's social media.
Starting from last year, every single thing he'd bought me, he'd bought one for her too.
Some of them were things she'd mentioned wanting. Things she liked.
Dick had spared no effort spoiling her, keeping her at the very tip of his heart. What I got was just the “while I'm at it” extra.
And I'd been the fool who treated his carelessness like treasure.
Now the trash was going where it belonged.
Dick, still lost in whatever haze his night had left him in, didn't notice what I was throwing away. He just chuckled as he wandered past：“Wow, we really did accumulate a lot of junk.”
He kept walking until he spotted the cake on the table, more than half of it still untouched.
He scooped a bit of frosting onto his finger and dabbed it on my nose. When I went still, he raised an eyebrow, grinning：“I thought you didn't like sweets. What made you buy such a big cake?”
Dick had the kind of eyes that were impossibly deep and full of feeling.
The first time I saw him, standing in my family's garden, those eyes had stolen something from me on the spot.
For seven years they'd smiled at me countless times. But now, no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find a trace of sincerity left in them.
I was quiet for a few seconds before I spoke, my voice low.
“Yesterday was my birthday.”
The smile froze on his face.
Then he pulled me into his arms, his expression full of remorse.
“Damn it—I'm sorry, baby. I actually forgot your birthday. Tonight I'll make it up to you, I swear.”
