New House, New Dinner Guest, New Divorce

In the third year since my husband, Axel Kramer, starts working as a rideshare driver, we finally manage to buy a home of our own.

On the day we move in, he suddenly says to me, "Some friends want to come over for dinner tonight. I already said yes."

I'm someone who values boundaries and doesn't like outsiders coming into my home. Even when we host relatives, we take them out to restaurants.

"Can't we just go to a restaurant?" I ask.

He looks helpless as he replies, "I already suggested that, but Lindsay said it would be more fun if we hang out at home. She said we should liven it up in our new home. And since everyone knows I'm a good cook, she wants to try my cooking too."

One corner of my eye twitches with displeasure.

Lindsay Brun is the female driver he's mentioned the most over these three years. She's also the only woman in their rideshare drivers' group chat.

I pursed my lips and continued tidying things up without showing any emotion. "I heard you mention before that your fellow female driver is trying to get a divorce."

Axel Kramer and I were sorting through our miscellaneous possessions after our move.

Not noticing that something was off in my expression, he replied, "Yeah, because of what happened half a year ago. Her husband got drunk and kept mumbling about his first crush and saying that he regretted not confessing back then.

"Around that time, he'd been secretly chatting with that woman, and Lindsay found out. Ever since then, they'd been sleeping in separate rooms. Recently, things flared up again. They even filed for divorce and are now in the waiting period to get their divorce certificate."

I responded with a hint of sarcasm, "She's busy getting a divorce, but she still has time to come over and join your housewarming, huh?"

Axel picked up on my tone and said with a laugh, "We're just friends. What were you thinking? Besides, a housewarming is supposed to be lively. You know what kind of person your husband is, don't you?"

Indeed, I knew.

Axel was a very good man. He cooked and took the initiative to do chores. Aside from not being very ambitious about making money, he could be considered a perfect husband.

He liked to stick close to me and was very good at providing emotional support. Even when he played games, he only teamed up with men, never with women.

Everyone in his rideshare group chat knew how well he treated me. Since I couldn't cook, he went home at noon every day to prepare meals before going back to work.

And yet, my seemingly perfect husband began to mention a female driver friend more and more often ever since he started driving for a ride-hailing platform three years ago.

I was frustrated and unhappy, so my voice turned cold as I stated firmly, "I don't agree to this. I don't like other people coming into my house."

Still, Axel tried to persuade me. "But I've already promised them. It's just one meal, and it'll liven up the atmosphere at home. We're hosting a housewarming dinner, after all. Wouldn't it be awkward if we didn't invite them to our home? Besides…"

My hands, which were folding some clothes, paused mid-action. I didn't remember anything he said after that. All I remembered was that it felt as if a stone was pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

All I knew was that he was trying to convince me to compromise my boundaries just to satisfy another woman. But maybe I really was overthinking it and being petty.

When he finished speaking, I nodded. "Fine. Invite them over."

Axel called his friends, happily inviting them to come over that evening to liven up our new dwelling. After hanging up, he called his parents and asked them to take care of our daughter for that night.

Then, he took my hand and led me out to buy groceries. He chattered on about the kinds of dishes his friends would like.

I stayed silent the whole time.

After getting into the car, my nose picked up the scent of a light fragrance.

I turned to look at Axel and asked, "Are you wearing perfume?"

Because I got carsick easily, he had never kept anything scented in the car.

He seemed excited as he pulled out a bottle of perfume and sprayed it toward me. "Lindsay gave this to me. It costs 250 dollars. Well, she didn't exactly give it to me—I asked her for it. She bought a new perfume, and I'd almost used mine up. I liked the scent, so I took it. Smells good, right?"

The fragrance spreading through the air made my stomach churn.

I suppressed the discomfort and replied, "Didn't you use to say you didn't like the smell of perfume?"