A sharp pain tore through my chest, as if someone had ripped it wide open.
The next photo was a receipt—for that very tie clip.
Hexington, twelve thousand dollars.
Beneath it, in small print, it said: complimentary gift—a tie.
I covered my mouth in disbelief as tears spilled uncontrollably down my face.
It was the very tie Sophia had given me today.
I put the phone down, my chest crushed as if by a sledgehammer, leaving me gasping for breath.
I couldn’t sleep all night, my mind replaying every memory.
Daniel had always loved onions and ginger since he was a kid—he even piled them into stir-fries and soups.
More importantly, his father had died because of his mother’s affair. Daniel despised mistresses more than anyone; he would never become what he hated most.
As for Michael, I remembered him at a company dinner, happily eating dishes loaded with onions and ginger, even remarking, “It brings out the flavor.” That ruled him out too.
That left Jason.
His tastes, I didn’t know at all.
My heart grew colder, and I made a decision.
If I wanted the truth, I had to see his home for myself.
I didn’t dare go alone—afraid that in a fit of rage I might do something irreversible. So I called Daniel to come with me.
As dusk settled, we arrived at Jason’s place.
A frail figure trudged back from the fields, shoulders bent under the weight of labor.
The sun had tanned his skin dark, and sweat streaked his face.
When he saw us, he froze.
“Ethan, Daniel… what are you doing here?”
I stood there, staring at his small, timid frame. A wave of unspeakable sorrow churned inside me.
He didn’t look at all like the kind of man who could drive Sophia wild with passion.
But then I noticed something—hanging on the clothesline in the yard was a brand-new silk robe, far too expensive for such a shabby home.
The sight of it burned into my eyes.
I wanted to speak, but my throat tightened, and no words came.
Daniel followed my gaze, his face hardening. Just as he was about to confront Jason, I quickly held him back.
“Let’s go.”
Daniel looked unwilling, but I pulled him away.
On the way back, he held it in for as long as he could before finally blurting out, “Why didn’t you ask? You’re just going to let it go?”
My vision blurred, tears spilling freely.
I clenched my fists until my nails dug deep into my palms, my voice hoarse.
“Daniel, find me a lawyer. I want to divide the assets… and file for divorce.”
He froze, then wrapped an arm around my shoulders in sympathy.
He was my best friend—he knew instantly what I was thinking.
Confronting the affair partner wasn’t what I wanted.
What I needed to know was this: how could Sophia, who once loved me more than life itself, suddenly fall for someone else?
In those moments when she betrayed me, did she ever feel even a flicker of guilt? Did she ever think of me?
When I got home, I felt like a ghost drifting through the rooms.
The warm yellow glow of the living room lights only made me colder.
The fridge was stocked with the fruit Sophia had bought for me, meals she had lovingly prepared—now nothing more than a cruel joke.
Every corner was filled with memories of us, but those memories now cut into me like knives.
On the third evening, my phone suddenly rang.
It was the lawyer Daniel had found. His voice was urgent, panicked.
“Mr. Miller, come to the address I sent you. Quickly.”
