He Loved Me as His Life

1

I found out about Wynn's affair on our third wedding anniversary.

As our company grew larger, Wynn became increasingly busy and grew thinner.

I had deliberately signed up for a cooking course a month ahead, with the exclusive aim of crafting an extravagant dinner for him on our third anniversary.

Concerned that I wouldn't be able to balance home and work, and not wanting me to give up my beloved career for the sake of our family, we hired a housekeeper. This way, even when Wynn was too busy to come home and cook for me, I could still enjoy delicious meals.

I couldn't even remember the last time I cooked.

I put in dedicated effort, from regularly burning myself in kitchen disasters to becoming proficient. Only heaven knows what I've been through.

On our anniversary day, I went out early to buy ingredients and prepare for dinner. I worked diligently all evening, turning the empty dining table into a feast for the eyes.

When the delicious dishes were ready, I sat on the couch, anticipating Wynn's expression when he walked in.

But I waited from dawn until it was pitch dark outside, and Wynn still hadn't returned.

I picked up my phone to call him, and someone answered. It was a girly voice, "Hello? Is there something you need, Miss?

"Wynn is in the shower right now. I'll have him call you back when he's done."

From the voice, it was clear that she was a young girl.

Though that's what she said, her words carried a certain arrogance, blatantly displayed before my eyes.

She exuded an unmistakable sense of ownership, as if everything was her exclusive domain, not to be peered into by anyone else.

Without saying anything, I simply hung up the phone.

When I was eighteen, facing admirers who pursued Wynn, I acted the same way.

At the teacher appreciation banquet after our college entrance exams, a girl came to confess her feelings to Wynn in a coy manner.

He was drunk at the time, leaning on my back and complaining about feeling dizzy.

"Wynn, I like you," she said, handing over a pink envelope.

Seeing someone so blatantly ignoring my presence, I immediately turned around and hugged Wynn. "Sorry, but you can only have unrequited love. Wynn already has me as his girlfriend.”

Wynn silently agreed to my declaration of sovereignty.

He held my hand and proudly stood on stage, announcing to everyone, " Allow me to formally introduce you all to my girlfriend, Suzy Hall.

"In the times ahead, we will undoubtedly get married, and she'll be my one and only wife.”

Wynn's eyes at that moment were filled with deep affection and unwavering devotion, entirely focused on me.

I went from shock to feeling completely detached, losing track of time. All I was aware of was that I had remained seated in that same spot, enduring the harsh sunlight that seemed to stab at my eyes.

As soon as Wynn entered the room, he saw me sitting motionless on the couch.

"Suzy, didn't you say you were preparing for an art exhibition recently? Why are you sitting at home today?"

Without receiving a response from me, Wynn initially thought I was upset because he hadn't spent much time with me recently.

He took off his coat, which was filled with the scent of perfume, and casually glanced at the table filled with delicacies. His gaze froze.

It seemed like he realized something and hurriedly came over, kneeling in front of me and looking up at me.

"Suzy, I'm sorry. I was busy with work at the company yesterday, and I completely forgot about this important day."

"Suzy, don't be mad, please talk to me."

My gaze shifted downward, and I stared at this man, transfixed.

My eyes slowly swept over every inch of his skin, trying to find something different.

Nothing, there was nothing.

Everything about him was normal, with rosy cheeks, and his gaze was terrifyingly calm.

It was as if his affair was all a product of my imagination.

Seeing that I hadn't responded for a long time, he stood up and embraced me, his palm gently patting my back to comfort me.

"Suzy, don't be angry. It's my fault. Since we're both at home today, how about I make you a delicious meal?

"Consider it my way of making up for my mistake."

The warmth of his body and the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume were all so undeniably real.

So, indeed, Wynn had truly been unfaithful.

I moved my lips slightly, and tears suddenly fell.

"...Hungry, I'm so hungry."

"All right, I'll make something for you right away."

2

When Wynn heard I was hungry, Xu Yan would set aside his current work and get busy in the kitchen.

Watching his bustling figure, everything remained just as it had been before.

We've known each other for many years.

I've always had complete trust in him.

And he did the same way with me.

Even though I never checked or snooped around, he never guarded against me.

He didn’t even put a password on his phone.

I retrieved his phone from the coat pocket he left on the couch.

The screen lit up, and with a swipe, I was on the phone interface.

As the CEO of the company, no one would dare to touch his phone.

So, when it came to this affair, he didn't think about concealing anything.

The chat records were glaringly evident before my eyes, filled with the ambiguous traces between him and that girl.

The young girl's name was Lucy Lane. She majored in dance at a prestigious art academy, and she was a whole eight years younger than me.

Because of a family disagreement, she left home, and Wynn kindly arranged for her to have her own apartment close to her school, along with a car for her convenience.

Lucy had a fondness for the unique desserts in City B. Even though Wynn was tired from his business trip, he made an extra effort to stand in line and purchase them for her.

She plated the desserts beautifully, took meticulous photos, and sent them over, saying, "These are so delicious, I love them. Didn't you buy some for your wife?"

Wynn replied, "No, she doesn't like these overly sweet things."

Upon hearing this, Lucy seemed a bit unhappy, saying, "So, you're implying that I'm childish, and I enjoy this sweet stuff?"

“You’re a childishly adorable.”

Every single word and sentence struck me deeply. It was revealed that on my birthday last year, Wynn hurried to the office for work, leaving me all by myself to take care of the bedridden Lucy.

During the Lunar New Year trip we planned well in advance, Wynn suddenly left me alone in another province due to an emergency. It was because Lucy had been in a car accident and insisted on seeing him, crying and causing a scene.

As I scrolled down, my fingers on the screen grew weak. It had been a long time since she had subtly infiltrated every aspect of both Wynn's and my life.

I suppressed the pain in my heart and scrolled to the bottom. It was this morning before Wynn came back.

"I should have mentioned this earlier, but a woman called for you last night, and I picked up," Lucy admitted openly. "When are you planning to get a divorce? I can't handle these days of secrecy. It's painful for me to imagine both of you sharing a room and sleeping in the same bed.

"Just the thought of you being with me all the time, belonging only to me, makes me so happy."

She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was shamelessly bold.

And the last message in their chat, right before Wynn entered the house, was his response:

"I'll talk to her as soon as I can. You'll have to bear with this for a while."

Bear with it? You two are really something.

My heart stirred, and I quietly saved a backup of the chat records and transferred it to my phone.

When Wynn called out to me to come and eat, I had just finished the transfer.

I placed my phone back in its original position and responded, "Coming."

The dishes on the table were all Mexican cuisine, which I enjoyed, but Wynn couldn't handle the spice.

Every time we ate together, he seemed determined to wash it all down with water.

In the past, I used to think he adored me, that he was considerate in every way and only wanted to see me happy.

Now looking back, it was just self-deception.

If he couldn't handle the spice, why didn't he just make some milder dishes for himself instead of suffering through the spicy ones with me?

Seeing my low spirits, Wynn poured water and took a moment to ask, "What's wrong? Is it not tasty?"

I shook my head. "No, it's just that I suddenly lost my appetite."

"Is it because you're still upset about last night?

"With the recent workload at the company and all the bidding, there have been more things on my mind, and I may have unintentionally neglected my Suzy."

I squeezed my hand tightly, burying my face in my bowl to hide any signs of losing control, exerting all my strength to make my tone sound as usual.

"It's nothing."

"Why have you started wearing perfume lately?"

"I never—"

He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence.

Indeed, he never wore perfume, but his charming Lucy did.

As if he remembered something, he suddenly lowered his head, running his fork over the dishes on the table, as if carefully considering what to serve me.

After selecting one, he paused over a plate of pulled pork, picked up a piece, and placed it in my bowl before casually responding, "It's probably Lisa's. We work together every day, and maybe some of it rubbed off on me."

Lisa Taylor was Wynn's assistant, 46 years old, and a mother of two. Using a youthful fragrance?

The excuse was so flimsy that I didn't want to engage further.

Wynn kept his head down, staring at the dining table, his long and thick eyelashes concealing all his emotions.

We remained silent, our meal tasteless.

3

In the middle of the night, Wynn, who was lying beside me, called out softly, "Suzy.

"Suzy, are you asleep?"

With no response from me for a while, he quietly got out of bed.

He stepped onto the balcony, braving the cold wind as he made a phone call.

"Why aren't you sleeping yet? It’s already so late at night.

"I know, but the divorce isn't as straightforward as you might think.

"You’re a good girl. I'll handle it properly."

Just a wall away.

My husband, who professed his love and pity for me, was now gently reassuring his mistress.

"Alright, go to sleep. I'll come see you early tomorrow morning, okay?"

Wynn's voice, filled with helplessness and indulgence, trickled into my ears one after another.

"You really can't bear to have me out of your sight for even a moment."

He had said similar words to me before.

My mother, a government employee with old-fashioned conservative values. When I was born, she had hoped for a son, believing it would win back the heart with my father, who often strayed. However, things didn't turn out as she had expected: I was her second daughter.

So, my mother never liked me from a young age.

When I was five years old, my mother was fired from her job and lost her steady source of income.

Whenever her husband was at home, he demanded money. Raising our two daughters required money for everything, so we had no choice but to take over a small shop to barely make ends meet.

As I grew older, it seemed like my mother found fault with me at every turn.

When I was 19 years old, I had a big argument with my mom. I was punished to stand outside the house in the freezing cold, the biting wind chilling me to the bone. I was so numb that when I heard Wynn's voice, I thought I was hallucinating.

"Suzy."

I looked up, and there he stood, panting heavily, with red eyes. His eyes moved over the clear slap marks on my face and my frozen, reddened hands, filled with a mix of sorrow and compassion.

"From now on, I won't bear to let you out of my sight for even a moment."

Now, circumstances had shifted, and that person had changed. I stared blankly at the man outside the window.

Wynn seemed to realize something, turned around, and locked eyes with me, sitting on the bed inside.

For a moment, his body seemed extremely rigid, frozen in place.

"Suzy, why are you awake?"

I still maintained my blank expression, my voice hoarse as I asked, "Wynn, who were you talking to on the balcony in the middle of the night?"

He quickly put away his phone and approached me.

"It was Daniel. There was an issue with the bid proposal, and I was discussing it with them. Did I wake you?"

His expression and tone were so natural and flawless.

These false excuses seemed as if they had been rehearsed countless times, effortlessly rolling off his tongue.