The next day, I woke up two hours early.
Looking around the bedroom, I realized that almost everything here had been chosen by Troy.
Apart from a few pieces of clothing I owned, unchanged in three years, there was nothing worth taking with me.
I casually packed a few changes of clothes into a suitcase when I received a call from the airline, "Hello, is this Ms. Felicia Hoffman? Due to the heaviest thunderstorm of the year, your flight has been delayed and rescheduled for three days later. Do you agree to the change?"
I glanced out at the pouring rain and sighed. What bad luck, seems even the weather doesn't want me to leave.
I called my assistant, Charlie, back and said, "Make it three days later. Be on time to pick me up at the airport." As soon as I hung up, I noticed a figure behind me.
Troy frowned while asked, "Where are you going? Felicia, who were you talking to? Who's picking you up at the airport?"
He had only been passing by but became curious enough to approach me and demand answers.
He knew I had no family in this city. Not even a single friend.
In the six years of our marriage, I had sacrificed all my personal life for his company. After helping it grow, I willingly stepped back to focus on having a child through IVF.
To live like this for love … Thinking about it now, I was utterly pathetic.
I smiled faintly, "It's nothing. I signed up for a tour group, but the weather caused a delay, so it's canceled."
He stared at me intently, trying to discern if I was lying. But seeing nothing suspicious in my expression, he relaxed and approached me slowly.
"Felicia, once we have the baby, how about a month-long family trip to Bali?" His tone softened and he even reached out as if to gently touch my stomach.
I discreetly stepped away and went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water and said, "We'll talk about it later."
I glanced at the time. Normally, he would've left for work by now, but today, he lingered unusually long.
Hearing the indifference in my voice, his brows furrowed, "Didn't you always want to go to Bali?"
I had wanted to, wanted to go with the person I loved to witness its romance. But now, there was no need.
Besides, I could go wherever I wanted by myself. Before I could respond, the sound of a key turning the lock interrupted us.
Startled, I looked toward the door to see Louise, his secretary, standing there in a short, tight skirt, smiling sweetly at us, "Felicia, sorry to intrude. I saw that Mr. Angelo was running late, so I came to pick him up. You don't mind, right?"
My eyes fell on the key in her hand. It was the only spare key to our home.
I asked him, "Troy, you gave her the key?"
A hint of unease flashed across his face as he casually explained, "Louise is my secretary. Last time I left some documents at home and it was inconvenient for her to retrieve them, so I gave her a key. It's not a big deal, Felicia. We'll talk when I get back."
He shot Louise a look and the two of them left one after the other.
I chuckled bitterly to myself. I used to think his interest in her was just a fleeting attraction to her youth and beauty. But now, it seemed he was serious about her.
Later that afternoon, while sipping coffee, I received a call from a lawyer friend.
He told me the divorce agreement was ready and had been sent to my email for review. "Everything looks good. Thanks." I scanned it quickly, "Once I'm back in Chicago, dinner's on me."
His laugh came through the phone, "Thanks in advance, Miss Hoffman. Felicia, congratulations on your upcoming freedom. Come back soon."
A warm feeling stirred in my chest. Sebastian Curtis had been my closest friend since childhood. Six years ago, when I stayed in Houston for love, he had been the first to object.
He had said, "Troy might be good-looking, but you two are worlds apart. Don't be foolish enough to marry him!"
And, "That guy's face screams he won't stay loyal. Don't be stupid!"
But a woman in love is far from rational. I thought all men might cheat, but my Troy wouldn't.
He might've been poor, but he was hardworking and ambitious. With a little help, he could run his business well.
Most of all, I couldn't forget the look of deep affection in his eyes when he confessed to me under the cherry blossom tree. But now, that expression was fading from memory.
When I thought of Troy, my first impression was his impatience. Always justifying his secretary's behavior and scolding me relentlessly.
Sensing something was off, I moved to the floor-to-ceiling window. In the pouring rain, his car was still parked downstairs.
Even though visibility was poor, I could clearly make out the two figures inside, embracing and kissing passionately. Troy, I truly misjudged you.
